The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes
by persephonella
Summary: Post DH AU. Percy doesn't reconcile and Fred isn't dead: Percy is now assistant to his father… the new Minister for Magic! The man that Percy said had no ambition! Arthur tortures Percy with worthless errands and tasks out of spite. However, realising that Arthur knows little about managing the wizarding world, Percy tries to make sure the Ministry doesn't collapse overnight!
1. The Ministry Hires a Salesman Part 1

_i know the **'Percy losing his memory completely idea'** generated more interest on the poll on my profile page. i want you to know that i am working on that too, but the beginning is not turning out as smoothly as i want it to. i wanted to post them both, but it doesn't seem like it'll be happening tonight. sorry! i am going to stick with shorter chapters, so that it is easier on both fanfictions when i post them. i'll flesh out the background and characters better as the story goes on._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter One: The Ministry Hires a Salesman – Part 1

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On a _beautiful, bristling_ happy Monday, Percy was busy attempting to put on a pair of trousers that was threatening to cut off the circulation of his perineal region. He lost his will to live an hour ago—which he _just_ had finalised yesterday.

He could see his dull, uninspired life unravelling before his eyes… and he hadn't even done the button up yet!

Percy threw himself on his bed, tightening his flat stomach as much as he could. His hairline was becoming sweaty, which was given him perpetuating anxiety because he just showered and combed The Unruly Thing. Percy would bet that The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would be his arse all day now. His Madame Primpernelle's hair products were for _beastly locks_ after all. Not that the bloody overpriced rubbish did any—

Honestly! He wondered what propelled him to squeeze his hips into a pair of these teeny trousers _TODAY_ of all days!

On the _very_ morning they were due to announce England's new Minister for Magic!

And the Minister was already busy— _not_ making sure hospitals were stocked up with enough medical equipment or giving people that had lost their homes shelters until the government reconstructed their homes… oh, _not that rubbish._

The Minister for Magic issued a very important decree yesterday to _discontinue_ _selling Pixie Puff breakfast ice lollies_.

Lucy was very livid when she heard the news yesterday. In fact, she had gone on an underpants strike again.

He glanced at the clock and noticed that it hadn't even struck six yet. Wonderful. He _always_ liked to schedule in time to contemplate how much he hated himself. As he sat up on his old and uncomfortable bed, Percy felt his internal organs rebelling. He felt the thick band of the trousers cut into where he supposed his appendix was supposed to be at.

Fortunately for him, the joke was on the bloody trousers because he had his appendix out when he was eight!

He cautiously slipped out of bed; careful not to disturb his erratic trousers. He picked up his tattered, old briefcase that he stole from his father before he left the Burrow, took a deep breath… and _bravely_ walked directly into the kitchen. His daughters had outdone themselves this morning—you couldn't tell this place had been spotless yesterday!

Percy suddenly very felt unwell, and he wondered if one could have appendicitis _without_ an appendix.

"What am I supposed to do _NOW?"_ Lucy called out from their mini freezer, which was Pixie-Puff-ice-lolly-less.

Lucy threw herself on the carpet, which was had more mismatching colours than the Burrow sock drawer!

"It had _TWELVE VITAMINS AND MINERALS!"_ Lucy screamed. Percy made a mental note _not_ to make his children read the packet of any purchased they made to enhance their already extensive vocabulary. They also knew that Cheeri-Owls were made with skrewt oil and wrote a strongly worded owl to the company about how they should not, _um_ … press skrewts. "And is part of a complete and nutritious breakfast! And-and… they were _ALMOST_ vegetarian!"

She sobbed. " _I'M GOING TO DIE!"_ Lucy yelled. "I'm not going to eat _EVER AGAIN_ and then I'm going to _DIE!"_

"Dad, she's at it again!" Molly screeched from where she was standing, holding a half-open tin of baked beans.

"Lucille, really!" Percy picked his daughter up. Though he really wanted to lie down there with her. "Do you know how many pesky microorganisms live in that carpet? There's more mould in here than there is in… _mouldy things_." His creativity was failing him that morning. He hadn't had breakfast. He, too, did not have any ice lollies to consume.

"Who cares? _I'm_ going to die," Lucy said, and Percy wondered where she got that pessimistic view from! _"TODAY!"_

"Good!" Molly replied. When did his daughter not care about her sister's death? "Then _I_ can have all the blankets!"

Lucy sobbed even harder. _"I HATE HER!"_ she pointed at Molly. _"SHE ATE MY LAST ICE LOLLY!"_

Her pastel pink pyjama bottoms were only a _little_ smeared with… whatever amorphous substance was growing on the carpet. Percy had the irretractable urge to take it to a professional Herbologist to make sure that it wasn't fatal.

"If she dies, can I have her wand when I go to Hogwarts?" Molly asked him. "And can I have _two_ pets?"

"Absolutely not!" Percy groaned. His pants were sucking in the life of him. He might lose a spleen today. "I—"

"What about her dress robes?" Molly said, her skinny, freckled arms poking out of her oversized pyjamas; the very pyjamas that were now stretching over Lucy's tummy now. Percy watched her open the tin and started to slurp up the cold contents. Percy hated to admit she got that disgusting habit from him. "I want the one with the ribbons and—"

 _"I NEED THE PURPLE ICE LOLLIES OR-OR—"_ Lucy dissolved into tears. _"I'M GOING TO DIE!"_

 _Well, I want MY room!_ Percy wanted to scream himself. _The one in the Burrow! The one where I didn't sell my comfortable mattress in to pay for YOUR tonsillectomy, Lucy! What is it with this family and their inability to keep their internal organs IN?_

Lucy refused to detach herself from Percy's side. She refused breakfast. And most of all, she refused underpants.

He even went to the stores to try and find that bloody ice lolly, but it really had been discontinued!

Instead of appreciating one of the other forty-two ice lolly flavours that he'd gotten her, he had boxes of lollies thrown at him, with Lucy screeching at him a very loud and ear-shattering " _I HATE YOU… AND YOU'RE BORING!"_

 _If I did that to my mum at your age, Lucille…!_ Percy thought to himself.

Now that Lucy went from reminding him that she would die to telling him that she hated him, she took to throwing things around the flat. She hated him because _he didn't understand, was boring,_ and _didn't know how to fly a broom. Stupid!_

Meanwhile, Molly was looking at magazines for all the new pretty dress robes that she wanted to wear for Lucy's funeral. _Funeral dress robes are black, Molly_ was probably _not_ an appropriate thing to say, especially with Lucy in earshot. _"YOU WANT ME TO DIE!"_ Lucy screamed when she heard that. _"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!"_

"I don't care if you hate me!" Percy decided to say. "You're wearing your underpants _AND_ you're eating breakfast!"

 _"YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"_ Lucy said, and Percy wondered how illegal it would be to use an _Imperio_ on her.

By six-thirty in the morning, the sea-green wallpaper was giving Percy sea-sickness. There was frosting on his sofa even though there was no frosting in the flat. His poor wooden coffee table had become even more asymmetrical than usual and Lucy smeared strawberry jam everywhere; jam that Percy had paid _FULL PRICE_ for.

Mrs Rosenstein looked like she was about to faint when she walked into the flat. _"LUCY!"_

 _"NOT YOU!"_ By then, Lucy had underpants on, but she was now refusing pyjama bottoms. _"GO AWAY, OLD HAG!"_

" _LUCILLE!_ Apologise to Mrs Rosenstein _NOW!"_ Percy said, feeling his being come undone before him.

Mrs Rosenstein was a witch that used to work in the Ministry about a thousand centuries ago. Percy paid her a _considerable_ sum to make sure that Molly and Lucy didn't burn his flat down. She had done a wonderful job thus far, except for the few events within the last month where he'd had to get the Department of Magical Catastrophes and Accidents involved. And the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Oh, and he _still_ had to pay for Florean Fortescue's expensive dental procedure after the toothachingly sweet incident in his shop.

And for Madam Malkin's favourite flowers… _and_ for the Twilfit and Tatting's… shop sign.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said, and she meant it about as much as Percy meant it when he told the Fudge that his dress robes didn't make him look portly. How could he be so bloody fat? "You're not _that_ old… maybe only a _little_ old."

Well, Percy supposed he'd take it. Honestly, Mrs Rosenstein was more ancient than Professor Binns.

"I'm glad to hear that I'm not _that_ old, because if you really thought I was _that_ old then I wouldn't have bought you this gift!" at that time, Percy wanted to give Mrs Rosenstein a great old snog of the century when she managed to produce a box of _Pixie Puff_ ice lollies from her cavernous purse. Wonderful! That should buy him fourteen days without any more jarring ( _ha_ , strawberry jam jar) temper tantrums. "Though it looks more like a gift for your father."

Molly got up to give her father a hug and a little peck before he left for work, like she did every morning (and told him that they'd wait for him for dinner). Lucy's awful mood disappeared now, and she gave him a few pecks too.

"I'm sorry I said I hated you," Lucy told him sweetly. "I don't really hate you… only sometimes!"

"I love you too, Lucille," Percy mumbled, as she sucked on her ice lolly. She was already ruining her pyjama top.

"Oh, Mrs Rosenstein, _thank you!"_ Percy would write her a song if he didn't think he'd be late for work. Besides, she might be a little too old for him. He supposed cheese was better aged, but he'd rather not. He managed to get the pyjama bottoms on Lucy without another temper tantrum. His life had a sudden clear meaning, and he didn't seem to mind at all that there was strawberry jam all over his trousers. _"Thank you!"_

"That Lucy really likes her ice lollies, doesn't she?" Mrs Rosenstein asked.

"Well…" by then, Percy had lost full sensation in his legs. "I suppose she can't live without them!"

When he got into the Ministry building, he felt a relief wash over his bones now that he'd escaped his flat.

Of course, Percy blamed himself most of all for the fact that Lucy hated him _sometimes_.

He blamed himself for buying full-price strawberry jam because he couldn't stand another day of half-off apricot or quarter-off marmalade. He blamed himself for storming out of the Burrow four years ago without asking his mum where to buy half-off strawberry jam before he cut his family out of his life forever. He also blamed himself for forcing his daughters into the daily ritual of reading four pages from _The Daily Prophet_. Much to Lucy's displeasure, this did not include the section involving The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.

Well, his _Parenting Without A Wife, Crup Or Copious Amounts of Firewhiskey Instructional Manual_ told him to implement a strict morning reading ritual to his children to help aid their development into brimming young women.

It also did not warn him that one day, Molly would run up him after work, holding a gigantic book that she shouldn't be able to carry with reedy, little arms like hers. She'd smooth over her new, shiny robes (that she would destroy within the next twenty-four hours) and tell him, "Father, I know what you are!" Molly said with big, bulging green eyes full of excitement, waving her broomstick-like arms around. "You're a _sycophant!"_

By the time that he'd gotten behind his desk, he tackled on his first few reports, a broad smile on his face. He wanted to make sure that they got everything ready for the new Minister for Magic! _Whoever he was!_ When he was working, Percy didn't have to think about the fact that he hated himself, or that he was too broke to buy himself new pants—really, everything was so threadbare now that he'd tried to squeeze on a pair of trousers he wore at _fourteen_.

Oh, and he did not know how to get jam off Madam Malkin's Finest. Well, the _discounted_ finest that nobody wanted!

Then about two hours later, he collapsed onto his parchment paper in desolation. Percy couldn't even bring himself to go downstairs for a little cup of coffee or to make sure that _he_ ate something for breakfast now that both Lucy and Molly did. He felt his heart sink, because all he could think about what Lucy and Molly were doing right then…

"Percy!" Astoria Greengrass walked out of the room, holding a bunch of books. "The new Minister is coming!"

"How wonderful," Percy replied, doodling his daughter. Molly with her long, straight hair and tall frame. Lucy with her short hair, short body and her favourite ribbon. _And her stupid bloody Pixie Puff breakfast ice lollies Merlin save him_ —

Astoria was not the only one to wait for the Minister to walk into the office. In fact, everyone now stood with a brimming excitement waiting for him to enter. Defeated, Percy picked up his clipboard with his multiple doodles and joined the extensive crowd. They were murmuring amongst themselves excitedly about what was to come ( _more working hours_ , Percy thought in irritation. _Was it too early to send an owl to make sure that they were getting along alright?_ ). Percy knew was that Kingsley had chosen, what he believed, to be an appropriate candidate after he stepped down from his two productive weeks of being the Minister. Lucy and Molly had been hoping for a woman.

When his _FATHER_ entered the room, Percy started to feel very lightheaded. He needed _TEN_ ice lollies to feel better.

"Percy?" Astoria's sister, Daphne, looked amused. "I think it's _cute_ that your father is the Minister!"

 _CUTE!_ Percy wondered if Daphne would think he was cute if she got a sight of that unsanitary shed of his that probably broke at least three Ministry laws! There were more plants in his father's toys than a Herbology greenhouse!

"I'm sure he'd be just fine, Miss Greengrass," _ARTHUR WEASLEY,_ the new _MINISTER FOR MAGIC_ , said.

Percy's head just imploded, and he felt like pinching—or biting himself awake… or possibly settling himself on fire _just in case_ _because this was all a bloody bad dream_. This was a _NIGHTMARE_. His father! The bloke he called ambitionless! The one he insisted would never amount to anything in his life! _THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC_ standing in front of him! Percy was just stood there, gobsmacked! He, like Lucy, also hated his father! _MORE_ than sometimes!

Arthur cleared his throat. "Miss Greengrass, can you please get _Mr WEATHERY_ a glass of water and…" Percy heard a rip and ignored the amused facial expression on Arthur's face. " _A sewing kit_ for his trousers. He looks rather unwell!"


	2. The Ministry Hires a Salesman Part 2

_i'm sorry to whoever is reading this story! i know it's been a month and i usually never take this long to update, but unfortunately, i had my exams recently._

 ** _comment reply:_**

 _ **Kirlial** : well, i do like to start the new story soon after the old one... but not updating it for a month is not usually in the plan! ;) as for the two daughters and a struggling father, well... i just couldn't help myself! i needed something to maximise the drama and also for cheap comic relief! no, his family aren't aware yet!_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Two: The Ministry Hires a Salesman – Part 2

* * *

"I suppose that when _I_ was hired to be your assistant, they did not expect me to assist you like this," Daphne was sticking pointy things near Percy's arse to repair the rip in his trousers. "Heavy on the _ASS_ isting."

Daphne stuck up _FIVE_ needles up his arse thus far. _Well_ , at least he didn't have to pay for an acupuncturist this month.

"I do not find that amusing," Percy said. They were in Daphne's office. It was the size of a Kneazle's litter box.

"You're _SO STUFFY!_ I think it's pretty amazing that _you_ managed to sleep with a woman," Daphne flipped her long blonde hair back. Percy was marginally jealous that he was not so rich that his hair was like fine gold. Unfortunately, _he_ would always be copper. Ironically enough, Percy also had a copper allergy. "What do you do when Madam Malkin wants to measure you for a custom fit robe? Oh wait… I suppose _she_ doesn't since that _I'm_ stuck doing it!"

"Haha, Miss Greengrass. Please stop because I am absolutely bursting at the seams!" Percy replied sarcastically.

Well—he really _was_ bursting at the seams. _Merlin, these trousers!_

She stuck him with another needle and he flinched again before cursing under his breath. "You know," Daphne was giving him a pointed look. " _THIS_ would be a lot easier if you'd take off your trousers."

"Absolutely not!" Percy fired back. "I am _NOT_ taking off my trousers in front of my female co-worker!"

"Why?" Daphne was annoyed. " _PERHAPS_ , it's because you can't possibly take them off without a severing charm?"

He did suppose that he should've gotten the hint when putting on a piece of cloth made him feel about as faint as he did in the labour ward watching Audrey push Molly out. _Would you like to cut the cord?_ That disgusting slimy thing that was covered in blood and his wife's bodily fluids? _He_ was not interested in touching that with a ten-foot pole!

Percy tried to ignore his own thought. He did _NOT_ want to think about Audrey and her muggleness and… _deadness_.

Instead, he tried to focus on the fact that Daphne had more asphodels in this room than an apothecary.

Percy decided that if Lucy asked him about her precious _Pixie Puff_ ice lollies tomorrow morning, he was going to commit a serious felony by slowly suffocating her with aromatic asphodel pots instead. At least she'd smell nice for her own funeral… which, of course, Molly already decided on _EXPENSIVE_ dress robes for.

Ungrateful little brat! But how could he say no? She was a girl! Percy always had a hard time saying no to women.

 _Except when they're your mum_ , Percy thought to himself. _THEN you're alright with slamming the door in her face!_

"When you're done with these pants, you should donate them to Professor Binns! He might use them as a prop for one of the History of Magic classes!" Daphne stood up. Percy surveyed her work—he looked like the twins just had a hack at his trousers and he tried to stitch it up before his mum found out. "What possessed you to wear _THESE?!"_

"My mum bought me these pants when I was fourteen," Percy's ears went red. "They fit perfectly fine then."

"Fourteen?" Daphne echoed in disbelief. "You're twenty-bloody-three!"

Percy obviously did not see her point. He also could not breathe because he'd been suffocated by asphodels.

Oh, and his father was the Minister for Magic… Percy just wanted to make sure that he didn't forget that alluring fact.

Daphne managed to stitch up his trousers without sending him to hospital. _Miraculous!_ Percy couldn't decide if that was a good thing… he supposed that he still had to pop into the hospital to have his blood vessels revascularised.

Taking a deep breath, he was slowly made his way to the Minister's office. He supposed that he had to go to his father's office to congratulate him. Just thinking about it made this sickly-sour taste form in his throat—though that might have something to do with whatever Lucy tried to feed him last night either. He had twelve O.W.L's and he still didn't know how Lucy managed to bake bread that was as fluorescent as one of the twins' joke shop products!

Percy felt a lump form in his throat when he saw his father sat at the desk, looking smug. "Hello, Mr Minister."

"Percival," Arthur acknowledged. It had only been about three seconds and Percy felt defensive already. He saw his father almost laugh when Percy twitched. _PERCIVAL?_ "What's wrong then? Isn't that your name?"

"Yes," Percy obviously couldn't pretend that it didn't phase him. _This was a joke_. "You…"

Arthur kept looking at him, looking like a Kneazle that had the charmed cream! Percy had never wanted to violently throttle a Kneazle before however. Hermione would have his head for butchering an animal's right like that!

"You decided to ban _PIXIE PUFF BREAKFAST LOLLIES?"_ Percy did not keep his cool as he originally planned. He did not congratulate his father like he originally planned. He did not remain unphased like he originally planned. _"THERE ARE PEOPLE SAT OTUSIDE HOMELESS WITHOUT ANY SHELTER AFTER THE BLOODY WAR… AND-AND-AND YOU DECIDE TO BAN A FROZEN DAIRY PRODUCT! ARE YOU DAFT?"_

He should not call the Minister for Magic daft.

"What's next on your agenda?" Percy acerbically asked. He made no sudden movements because he didn't want his trousers to rip… again. "I suggest possibly fining Honeyduke's for having too much sugar in their chocolate bars!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and then slid the papers in front of him. Percy did not need more than a first look to know that they were papers that were directed towards building one of the biggest homeless shelter in Britain.

"Good morning to you too," Arthur had an eerily calm expression.

Percy could feel his face flushing. His father just made him look like a pompous arsehole!

"Firstly, Percival—I recall that you are my _junior_ _secretary_ , certainly _NOT_ my advisor," Arthur said. Percy did not know when his own father started to sound like an _official_ , but it made him more furious. Calling _him_ Percival as if… well, it was his name but the implication! "Secondly, I do not need to explain my actions to you! I received a report from a reliable source that those lollies were causing outbreaks of painful acne in children in some of the more recent batches. I don't think you understand, but one day, _you'll_ have children and you'll care about these things."

 _HOW DARE HE!_ Percy shook from anger. Arthur did not know about Lucy or Molly, but it still made Percy furious.

 _And what reliable source is that? Harry bloody Potter? Your new wonderful son that you'd support regardless of how asinine his ideas are? Whatever Harry said MUST be true! But I ran a Department all by myself and when the Minister offers ME a job, it's because he wants to spy on YOU! And you don't trust me enough to handle it myself… no, but you'd let Charlie frolic with dragons and Bill attempt to break LIFE-THREATENING SPELLS! You'd let RON get involved with VOLDEMORT AND DEATH EATERS and … Ginny almost got killed in her first year! But_ I _wouldn't be able to handle it if the Minister asks me to spy on you! Did you believe that I'd betray you? How dare you even suggest when I've devoted my life TO YOU!_

Percy wanted to spit out those thoughts but decided to keep his mouth shut. Harry did just save the wizarding world after all!

 _Why did you bother with me at all?_ Percy rambled to himself. _I could never amount to anything in YOUR bloody house!_

"Don't make me look like a fool," Percy whispered, his ears red.

"I need you to go over all these other papers to let me know if there is any pros, cons and limitations to signing them off," Arthur replied, levitating a gigantic pile of paperwork over to Percy's desk. _He thought that this was a nightmare! He'd barely be able to finish THAT in a week!_ "And I think you manage to make a fool of yourself just fine."

Percy supposed he deserved that. "I'll have it done by the week of the week."

Arthur looked at him with a raise of the eyebrow. "You mean by the end of _today?"_

 _"Today?"_ Percy's chest tightened. _"TODAY?"_ he reiterated. There was no possible way that he'd be able to finish _that_ much work in one day even if Merlin himself came down from the skies and tried to help him with it!

"I also need you to schedule these appointments for me over the next month," Arthur said, as he offered a rolled-up piece of parchment paper. Percy's bright blue eye twitched because he knew how long a parchment paper had to be to be rolled up _ten or eleven times!_ "Astoria said that she feels like there's a lot of conflict over at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes so they're expecting you there around seven—"

"But my shift ends at five," Percy hissed.

"Percival, you and I both know that you are not actually likely to go home after five!" Arthur replied.

Percy shook his head. "My shift ends at five," he repeated coldly. "I am not staying here a second longer than that, Mr Minister because I have an important arrangement tonight." _The gall of him!_

Arthur gave him a calculated look. "Of course," he replied. "But I still expect this work to be done today."

 _TODAY!_ They both knew that it wasn't possible! Percy supposed he had to pull an all-nighter—up until five the following day! What a joke! Re-doing his O.W.L's would genuinely be less taxing than having to go through each blanket statement in that paper _and_ trying to come up with different ways that it could be used against the Minister!

Did he look like a lawyer? Did he look like he had a prized place in the Wizengamot?

Which, unfortunately, meant to him that he had to talk to his correspondences at the Wizengamot to make sure that _he_ wasn't completely taking out of his arse! For every single document and proposal! Percy had at least forty or fifty proposals sat on his desk right now, waiting for him… and to be terribly honest, it wasn't his job to do it either!

Percy left his father's office, fuming to himself! Then he felt a crushing chest pain consume him.

Percy had never been away from his daughters for a whole day before. He'd promised Molly and Lucy that he'd do her hair tonight because Mrs Rosenstein was going to take them to see a play enacting some of the most popular stories from _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Percy also had to fix their dress robes because they were too long—

"That's what you have to do for the week?" Daphne asked as she swung by his room, holding two cups of coffees. She placed one on his table. Seriously. Did she not have any work to do _at all?_ "Good luck."

Percy shook his head. "That's what I have to finish today," he replied.

Daphne turned white. "I'll—I'll go get your books," she said. She cleared his throat. _"Today?"_ she reiterated softly, and he just nodded his head again. "Are you sure he said _today?"_

Percy wanted to laugh. "Yes, I am quite certain when my father said today, he meant—well— _today_."

After he went though about a quarter the pile that he had—mind you, he'd also been needing to go to the lavatory, but he'd been holding that in for the hour, he'd started to develop a tremor. His head filled like it was filled with all this useless bollocks. If it was up to him, he'd spend his time more efficiently! Like plucking each strand of curly red hair on his head and wondering why he didn't just become a Death Eater because his father was treating him like one! He had a gnawing headache, but he chugged down a potion followed by another cup of coffee.

By his sixth cup at around four o'clock, he fell sleep by his desk. By four-thirty, he had Daphne shaking him awake.

"Percy, you're drooling all over the Magna Carta," Daphne told him. "And did you eat lunch?"

"I'm not hungry," Percy mumbled, and then wiped the drool off his mouth. How sophisticated and refined. He shifted too quickly and heard his trousers rip. If that wasn't the icing on the tombstone cake! He cursed. He was not sure if he ate breakfast either. "And the Magna Carta this is not!"

"Is _that_ a pair of dress robes?" Daphne asked, noticing a tiny pair of pink dress robes on his table.

"No, they are not," Percy grabbed them and stuffed them into his cupboard. He tried to stitch up Lucy's, but after he heard his father screeching at three pm to come into the office and sort out the mess that he made with organising his calendar for the month, he'd butchered the piece of cloth beyond repair. "I am completely dedicated to my work and am not thinking about dress robes. In fact, I am about to burst from sheer excitement over this challenge that has been presented before me."

Daphne just shook her head. "Right," she crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're about to burst from excitement, then _I'm_ the Minister of Magic."

"This country would be bankrupt if you were," Percy rubbed his eyes. He was quite the charmer! How did he become so bitter when he was sure that his mum had fed him enough sweets than most people had in two lifetimes?

At five-thirty, he apparated back to his flat—and threw up in the rubbish bin because he'd barely eaten.

"Percival, are you alright?" Mrs Rosenstein was standing over him as he threw up in a rubbish bin. He felt like that one Christmas where he ate too much of his mum's treacle tart. His resilience used to be amazing—it would've made Oliver Wood want him to try out for the Quidditch team! "Your sick… _um_ … it's very pink."

"I suppose that's because of my deteriorating testosterone levels and Lucy's wonderful dinner last night!" Percy was about to faint when he saw the state of his flat! _"MERLIN SAVE ME…! WHERE_ is my _COUCH?"_

"They were playing a game of hide and seek!" Mrs Rosenstein explained.

Percy's ears went red. "Well, at least I know they're not behind the couch!" he was livid.

 _Audrey_ , Percy thought to himself, becoming more furious by the second. _I can hear you laughing but I… am not laughing!_

How did two four-year-old girls manage to _GET RID OF HIS COUCH?_ Percy was about to fall over and faint. He saw Dumbledore's starry robes flash before his eyes, but he tried to take a deep breath. After that, he took a few more successive deep breaths to try and prevent himself from having a mental breakdown before supper.

"Molly! Lucy!" Percy yelled, watching Mrs Rosenstein rummage through her bottomless purse. The top floor of the Ministry was empty now. "You're going out tonight! I'm taking you to camp out in my office! We'll have Chinese!"

Well, at least there wouldn't be any rats in the office... his father had left the Ministry at five!


	3. The Ministry Hires a Salesman Part 3

_i changed the title of the mini series from 'Pixie Puff Problems' to 'The Ministry Hires a Salesman'. i like that better! drat though! i have to replace the other chapters now!_

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **IfILeaveMyGrinBehind** **:** i LOVED you disjointed rambling. i can't stop smiling reading it! and bratty kids are SO fun to write... even though i want to give more interesting dialogue than 'i don't like her, she's mean, i hate her'... hopefully in the future! fleshing out four-year-olds is gonna be hard._

 _ **Checkmate-13** : that is the best feeling! when you feel like a story is just written for you! hopefully, i can do it justice!_

 _ **courgette96** : this review put me over the moon! of course, Audrey had to be dead. you know this fanfiction had to be riddled with a cacophonous amount of angst... i know how you feel about Audrey though. though hopefully Percy reminiscing and the fact that she's part of his inner monologue sometimes might help flesh her out! and SAD ABOUT PERCY! the only way i know how to write Percy... i hope you're prepared! i LOVE my Percy angst thick and strong! and yes, i do want Arthur/Percy to reconcile and get their head out of their arses. hopefully at some point in the next 34535 chapters, they'd come to a reconcillation. ;)_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Three: The Ministry Hires a Salesman – Part 3

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 _"DAD, COME ON!"_ four-year-old Molly threw herself over at Percy's frame. _"GO TO BED!"_

Percy yawned in response. "Molly, _you_ are not my mum." Well, his mum was Molly, but Molly was not his mum.

Molly sighed deeply. She collapsed on top of him, and spilled ink all over his desk. _Perfect!_ Just what he needed at three in the morning—his own personalised Rorschach test! He could already see his future deteriorating before his eyes!

Meanwhile, Lucy was sat on the top of their pillow fort. He had built it with them three hours ago—there weren't that many temper tantrums and tears. Oh, and he supposed his children hadn't been too bad either!

 _"I want to do your hair!"_ Lucy got up and attacked him, grabbing a fistful of The Unruly Thing. "It's so _CURLY!"_

Curly was one thing. His hair was a tangled mass of carroty umbilical cords that relied on his head for nourishment.

"I've seen Fwooper's nest look better after a storm," Molly said, rolling her eyes. "Lucy, Dad needs to go to _SLEEP!"_

 _"NO!"_ Lucy said, and then went to look for her ribbons and comb. " _I'M_ going to do your hair, Dad! _TELL HER! MOLLY IS THE WORST! SHE HATES ME SO MUCH! I HATE HER BACK! SHE… SHE ATE MY LAST LOLLY!"_

Percy knew that he shouldn't let his daughter play with wild animals but given what they'd done to his couch, he supposed that Lucy could give it a go. Well, he thought that she could give it a go, but he regretted instantly when Percy felt like she'd yanked out his diminishing Transfiguration knowledge right out of his skull with her comb!

It was a far cry from his gentle, freckled hands braiding Lucy and Molly's straight copper hair into neat fishtails!

 _"LUCILLE!"_ Percy cried out. He hoped Lucy didn't go into dragon taming. The dragons wouldn't stand a chance.

"It's so _CURLY!"_ Lucy shrieked in excitement. She dug her hands into his hair. Percy had seen Ron be gentler with Puffskeins. " _I'm_ going to put ribbons in your hair! _You're_ going to be so pretty—like a unicorn!"

Percy bet that every bloke's dream was to look like a glorified horse with a horn. "Lucy, it's-it's… time for bed!"

He saw Molly collapse into the pillow fort and had pulled a blanket over her head to fall asleep. _"Goodnight!"_

An hour later, Percy could barely read the report. That rubbish might as well be written in Elvish for all he bloody knew. He felt like he was decrypting a paper riddled with Ancient Runes. He held a sleeping Lucy into his arms. He tossed the parchment paper to the end of the table and threw himself over into the teeny-tiny fort. Percy's legs poked out. He had more ribbons in his hair than Ginny had in her room and his arms were too long. His head was gigantic, as his family didn't make him forget. He still had the jeering letters his family sent him saved in his flat.

And Merlin, he was freezing. It was colder than the exchange he had with his father that morning!

"Dad," Molly nudged him awake only moments after he started to fall asleep. "I'm cold."

Percy reluctantly unzipped his Ministry robes and wrapped them around Molly before scooping her into his arms too. Molly said a _'thank you'_ and the last thing he remembered was feeling warm inside—like a sticky toffee pudding that just had hot caramel sauce poured on. Percy felt Lucy cling onto his arm and Molly curl up against his arm.

He supposed it wasn't _that_ cold… well, he could never have children again after tonight, but that really was a blessing!

Lucy was nudging him. "Dad?" she looked at him with weary eyes. "It's _SO_ hot! I'm about to _DIE!"_

Percy feigned sleep so that he could pretend that he didn't hear her.

At six in the morning, Percy very cautiously apparated back his daughters to the flat. The terrible terrors didn't seem to be startled by the fact that Percy accidentally swished around too fast and smacked his bum against the kitchen counter. He cried out in pain, but his pain was probably a lullaby to their ears! Last he remembered, those two had no problem waking up at this time when Percy bought in the first chocolate cakes of the week!

"Percy?" Mrs Rosenstein opened the door with her key. " _You—!"_ she went white.

"Mrs Rosenstein, there's some tea in the pot, but I'm not sure if it's consumable," Percy walked towards Molly and Lucy's rooms. He managed to lay them in bed without tripping through the wasteland of stuffed animals. "Actually, I'm pretty sure that it could be legalised as a weapon by the Wizengamot… I'll make another pot before I leave!"

He tried to slowly remove his Ministry robes from Molly, but she was clinging onto them. Then she whimpered.

 _Of bloody course!_ Percy said to himself. _Of course, she got attached to them in the span of two hours!_ He blamed Audrey for that one. He'd been with his family for eighteen years, and he still wasn't attached to them.

He tossed a look at the clock, and then left to take a shower, deciding not to wash The Unruly Thing. Percy ran to his room and pulled out another pair of shoddy clothes. He could practically hear Audrey hiss at him. _You're wearing those RAGS outside? In PUBLIC?_ _Because I didn't realise that you were starring as the lead in Oliver Twist, Percival!_ He was still not sure who Oliver Twist was, but he supposed he was not a star Quidditch player for Puddlemere United. Percy would like to think that if he starred as a lead in a play, he'd play someone that had more intelligence than a puffapod.

He tried to look for something acceptable, but all his clothes were either muddy, discoloured, too big, too small, or looked like it had just had a row with a Death Eater! Percy decided to change into a pair of extremely baggy red trousers that looked like they belonged to a mountain troll and a beautiful, crisp white shirt.

Well, it had probably been last been a beautiful crisp white before Dumbledore was born. But, uh… it had character!

 _And more O.W.L's than Fred and George did_ , Percy thought indignantly. Dropping out of school!

Percy knew he'd have his arse handed back to him if he showed up in work without those sodding robes, but he'd rather keep himself in his children's good graces. He threw a generous pile of owl snacks for Hermes, who looked shocked as he gawked at him, and then made tea for Mrs Rosenstein. Percy put the stove on and made enough porridge oats for the whole of Dumbledore's Army! That should be sufficient enough—he hoped Molly and Lucy left something for Mrs Rosenstein.

"Percy, before you go…!" Mrs Rosenstein looked at him with an alarmed look on her face. _"Your—!"_

"I hope you don't mind if I talk to you about it after work, which I am late for!" Percy turned the stove off and put his plimsolls on. He'd have to run to get to the Ministry of Magic before he was sacked. "There's tea in the pot for yourself! The play starts at eleven and if Lucy and Molly do anything to get the Ministry involved… _again_ , a copy of my identification papers are in the second drawer in my bedroom. Call me if anyone develops a sore throat—well, except for Lucy. She had a tonsillectomy! She's lying if she says she has a sore throat and she most definitely does not need ice-cream for it! They are not allowed to bring anymore flobberworms back home. Thank you… Goodbye!"

Mrs Rosenstein was still staring at him. What was wrong with the coot? She lived through two wizarding wars. Whatever it was that was giving her that look couldn't actually be _there_. The bat was turning senile! _"Percy—"_

 _"DAD!"_ Lucy cried out from her room. _"MOLLY HAS BETTER PILLOWS THAN ME AGAIN! I'M SO SAD!"_

Percy immediately ran out. Fortunately for him, Molly could sleep through anything except probably a debate about the rights of house elves. Bollocks. _She_ had no problem treating him like her own personal house-elf!

By the time that Percy got back to his office, he attempted to get rid of that sodding pillow fort!

"Percy?" Daphne was standing by the door, watching Percy get entwined in blankets. "Did you sleep _here?_ Your—!"

"Daphne, I—" Percy managed to pull himself out of the blankets and was horrified. _"The morning meeting!"_

Percy grabbed his files and then ran into the main meeting room as fast as he could.

He never had so many officials in one room. Percy's heart was hammering into his chest, and suddenly, he felt worse because even his father tried to make sure that he was wearing his nicest clothes. His father had a pair of trousers that he wore on extremely special and important occasions. He'd even put his Ministry robes on in a way that practically camouflaged the fact that it had more holes in it than… well, _George_. Apparently now, he was _hole-y!_

"Percival," Arthur was staring at him with a shocked facial expression. _Percival!_ Again! Percy's blood boiled.

Percy wondered why everyone was staring at him like they just noticed that he wasn't exactly Gilderoy Lockhart.

"These… these are the people from the Honeydukes," Arthur cleared his throat and managed to compose himself. "I thought you'd enjoy telling them how much you enjoy their _Pixie Puff_ _ice lollies_ since you seemed so distraught yesterday when I've banned them. And how much you want to help reformulate them to bring them back!"

 _That was NOT the point that I bought up yesterday!_ Percy wanted to yell. _I AM NOT A FOOL!_ _Don't make me look like—!_

Percy turned white. He nearly dropped his file of notes. "Help them reformulate their—?" he felt faint.

He was _NOT_ a cook by any means. He had as much knack in the kitchen as a drunken flobberworm did!

"Well, I did suppose that after yesterday's discussion, you seemed keen to have them back on the market. Honeyduke's were thrilled to hear this since they'd been so profitable!" Arthur explained. Percy believed that he still had to be sleeping in the pillow fort, with his daughters right beside him because this was a _JOKE_. A big, fat joke… and Percy wasn't laughing. "It had to be important! You didn't even arrange a meeting to see me about it!"

Percy was stunned. _THAT_ was what this was about—he didn't arrange a meeting to see him. He dared mouth off to him. He was trying to teach him a _lesson_. This was his _PUNISHMENT_ for not treating him like the Minister for Magic!

"They even would like you to be the spokesperson for the launching of the _new_ Pixie Puffs ice lollies after you're finished reformulating the product!" Arthur went on. Percy thought that it couldn't get any worse, but it did.

"Of course, Mr Minister," Percy replied in a defeated tone. "Thank you," he replied in a quiet voice.

He was the _JUNIOUR ASSISTANT TO THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC!_ He was _NOT_ supposed to be… _UGH!_

 _"Dad!"_ just when he thought that his day couldn't get any worse, he had the twins whiz in the office. Percy's stomach tightened when he noticed that George's ear really had been torn off. "We can help with the reformulation!"

 _"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"_ Percy bellowed, assaulted by images of the twins pranking _his_ daughters and suddenly, he felt very protective and vengeful. _"THOSE ARE MARKETED TOWARDS CHILDREN… AGED FOUR TO SIX!"_

Instead of having a row with him, Fred and George stared at him and burst into laughter.

"I can't…!" Fred was crying from laughter. "Getting styling tips from Bill?"

George shook his head. "More like from Gabrielle!" he wiped a tear off his eye. "I needed that!"

"Styling tips from...?" Percy paused and then tugged at his curl and froze when he a pastel pink ribbon fell into his hand. _LUCY!_

Percy thought that he was going to faint. He didn't know why he didn't bother pausing to look at himself in the mirror—probably because he didn't want to depress himself by looking at his mucked-up thin, freckly face. Percy wished he could scream without looking like an inconsolable twat. And… he almost lost it when he overheard one of the Honeydukes' blokes whisper to another one that at least it'll involve _the gay movement committee!_

When Percy had a chance to go to the lavatory, he was disgusted. "I don't look like a unicorn! More like a thestral!"

He spent ages doing their hair whilst they insisted on playing Exploding Snap in front of him, and she lazily strung around these ribbons like he was a dying Christmas tree. Percy knew how Rudolph the poor demented reindeer felt… having to lug around Father Christmas' arse around. And _that_ fat git got all the credit!

Percy slumped over the sink. He wished he could take his girls to their first Beedle the Bard play today.

"You humiliated me! Showing up to-to my office wearing _that ridiculous_ —!" Arthur said the second that he came back into the office. His face was so red he matched whatever tuft of red hair he had on his head. It was almost comical. "You did it on purpose! Instead of working, you've been off frolicking with Madam Primpernelle! And where in Merlin's name are your _official_ Ministry robes? _I_ don't run a bloody circus in here!"

 _No, you just keep the ruddy circus in your house!_ Percy hissed. He'd done more acrobats than most gymnasts did trying to dodge the twins from their upcoming prank. He could probably bend in more ways than a Whomping Willow.

Percy opened his mouth, but it twitched. "Excuse me, _I_ humiliated _YOU?"_ he was demoted to a salesman for Honeyduke's! He grabbed the reports that he did last night and then slammed it towards his father's chest.

"I'm the _MINISTER FOR MAGIC!"_ Arthur yelled. Percy's heart almost sank into his chest when Arthur threw the stack of paper into the rubbish bin. "And you will treat me like it, or I'll find someone who does. Understand?"

Percy slowly nodded his head. "Of course, Mr Minister," he said apathetically. It had only been two days and already his father was threatening to fire him! He was in absolute shock that he'd spent the whole night there just for his father to bin his work _without even looking at it!_ Even _SNAPE_ had never done that. "I'm sorry, Mr Minister."

"I'll see you later," Arthur said, and then turned to walk back to his office. "I hope you've lost your attitude then!"

"Percy?" Molly was standing by the door and Percy's heart shattered. "What in Merlin's name are you wearing?"

She ran over and hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around him. "Are you broke?" she asked him. "Did you get in trouble with anyone at the chess club? Do you owe the librarian a lot of money because you didn't take your books on time? _Oh, honey! I always told you to take them back on time!_ And… you look so pale! I can hardly see your freckles."

Percy was trapped. "Mum, I'm fine!" he told her, seeing her sob on his clothes. He upset his mum… again!

" _AT LEAST_ let me give this a wash!" Molly grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. " _The state of it!_ You know, George wasn't even in this state right after the war and he lost an ear… Godric, Percival, what have you done to yourself?"

"Mum!" Percy saw Daphne stood by the doorway with two cups of coffee, smirking. "Not in front of my secretary!"

Daphne laughed. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Weasley," she smiled warmly. "Percy, Honeyduke's want to talk to you! They said that they want to launch their new product before ten _TODAY!_ But you get to choose the venue for it."

Percy nearly tripped over his feet as he replied, _"The Beedle the Bard play today in Diagon Alley!"_


	4. The Ministry Hires a Salesman Part 4

_this is the end of **'The Ministry Hires a Salesman'** subplotline. the next one is called **'This Cytobrush Costs How Much?'** and will hopefully involve the introduction of Penelope Clearwater (i haven't written it yet!). feel free to speculate this medical-related prompt, though it is sort of hinted when Percy says the hospitals don't have enough equipment!_

 _for this subplots, it's kind of like how each episode of a show is like... there's a bigger plot, but it's sort of expanded on by these small subplots._

 _i have forgotten to write this in my other fanfiction, i.e. Muggle Me, but i have updated the poll on the top of on my profile. i removed both ideas that are already posted and put two more. i don't know if you could re-vote. i changed my multi-select option to include 3 options instead of 2. hopefully, that'll allow you to at least pick one more! one of them is a 'Percy is a product of rape' plotline (i can't believe this hasn't been written before to be honest!) and the twins being a reason for the Percy/Arthur fight (this one i've posted before but took down because i had very little reception... but i think i have 4-5 chapters of that already written.)_

 _ **comment replies** :_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** **:** i feel so bad for Arthur. i always have to make him a villain. but this fanfiction IS called 'The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes.' he can't be nice if he's the devil. _

_**Nx** : thank you so much. i am so glad that you enjoyed my fanfictions! as for the kids being spoiled, it is thoroughly Percy's own fault. he obeys their every single whim because he wants them to have what he didn't. it's why Molly got shocked in the previous chapter that he was in such a state. because he is neglecting himself for his children (i am not sure if i made this clear). this whole 4-chapter plotline happened because his daughter couldn't deal with the fact that they discontinued a food product she liked! hopefully, as time goes on, they get better. i know baby Molly is a little better._

 _ **IfILeaveMyGrinBehind** : i think i mentally lost it when Arthur dumped Percy's work in the rubbish bin. cold! but i also got a kick out of writing it. i love the fact that Percy named his kid after her - and that it's canon! that's so wonderful. it says so much in just a few sentences. i also love that he has two girls... i always imagine that that helps melt some of his colder exterior. i cannot wait to write Molly meeting Molly. it hopefully is going to be iconic! thank you about your words about my writing! i try to formulate every single sentence carefully so it has a specific feel to it. and it feel like sometimes, it isn't much appreciated but seeing comments like this brighten my day. _

* * *

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Four: The Ministry Hires a Salesman – Part 4

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After he made four batches of ice lollies that even a wandering house-elf refused to taste, Percy collapsed on the chair in the ice lolly booth at the play. Daphne took over and made a batch that didn't look like Dementor bollocks.

Their had a sign taped to their booth: saying _HOMEMADE HONEYDUKE'S PIXIE PUFF ICE LOLLIES: NEW AND IMPROVED_. _TRY IT BEFORE WE LAUNCH IT EXCLUSIVELY IN ALL HONEYDUKE'S STORES!_

"I'm not going to ask how you did that," Percy mumbled. "I used Felix Felicis and I still couldn't."

"Wait, _THAT_ —" Daphne pointed a finger towards a package of _burned_ ice lollies (yes, he'd manage to burn something that was frozen. Well done, Percival) that made Hagrid's rock cakes look to die for, "was _WITH_ Felix Felicis?"

Well, the ingredients to his Felix Felicis were on discount… Molly wanted a new toy boat that day!

Percy's ears went red. "Nobody in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes got involved, did they?" He'd only managed to burn off part of his finger, but he believed that without the liquid luck, he'd be nursing full-body wounds in St Mungo's. He ate baked beans out of a _CAN_ for Merlin's sake. The only time he entertained the notion of cooking was to bring his father over for a dinner party. "And that glumbumble looked interested in it before."

 _He was wondering whether an Ashwinder would form from the flame of your FROZEN dairy product_ , Percy thought bitterly.

Mr Flume tasted an ice lolly a while back and thought that it was sweeter than a diabetic's breath in the emergency unit in St Mungo's. Then he told her to make more because he thought it really was new and improved!

Daphne turned to see Percy start to doze off in the chair whilst she prepared another ice lolly. "You _DID_ sleep on the floor last night! I can't believe you! I seriously can't! It's like that time a manticore chased me around in London when I was out clubbing and having a good time because even a raging beast couldn't get enough of me!" Daphne dipped the stick into her Pixie-Puff-ice-lolly-filled mould—which immediately solidified. "Merlin, why did you bother turning up at all? You look like you've just popped a few bottles of Dreamless Sleep and then tried to tape your eyes open for the rest of the day. Merlin, Percy, you make Nearly Headless Nick look alive!"

Percy tried to keep his eyes open. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "I'm not tired." No, he was thoroughly exhausted.

Daphne rolled her eyes and stuffed a blanket towards him. "You're right. You can't be tired if you're comatose."

Percy rolled his eyes. "I'm not tired," he repeated, but curled up in the blanket. "I have a job to do here."

"Percy, you can't help me here. You can't make anything to save your life. You have no artistic talent. You tried to decorate one of these ice-lollies and it looked like I've flung them at the wall because I was on a diet and didn't want to be tempted!" Daphne yelled at him, and then sucked on one of the ice lollies, shuddering. _"Now, SLEEP!"_

The play was more crowded than the Burrow in Christmas. They could barely see anything from the booth!

"I can't. I have this…" Percy's eyes lit up when he _finally_ spotted Lucy and Molly, "intractable urge to see this play!"

Lucy and Molly had already ruined the pink dress robes that he stitched up yesterday. Their bright red hair was surprisingly intact, and they looked deceptively angelic in their long white tights and pale Mary Janes.

His daughters threw themselves at him the second that they could.

Percy buried his head into Molly's hair, their heads were pressed up against his chest. Percy was starting to doze off before he felt Molly tug at his arm and say, "Which one of the tales of Beedle of the Bard is that one?"

Percy's eyes snapped open. " _THAT IS NOT FOR CHILDREN!"_ he shrieked. Not _that_ one! That one wasn't!

Lucy laughed, like it was the funniest thing that she'd heard in the whole world. "I want one of the Pixie Puff ice lollies," she said to Percy in a soft voice, looking over at the stand where Daphne was at. She leaned against the stand and was intently watching the play. "They're _homemade!_ It probably has _MORE_ than twelve vitamins and minerals!"

They were _almost_ vegetarian too, Percy thought with an eye roll as he closed his eyes falling right back asleep—

"The last thing _that_ fat baby needs is an ice lolly," Percy heard a voice. "She should leave some for everyone else!"

 _"Pardon me?"_ Percy's eyes suddenly snapped wide open. He looked at the bloke that said _that_ about his daughter. He was blonde and looked like he hadn't had a shave since the first wizarding war. He also looked like he could knock out Charlie for the remainder of the year with a swift look at him. " _WHAT_ did you just say about her, you blathering imbecile? She is _FOUR_ years old! She doesn't need dietary advice from a mountain troll on steroidal potions!"

Mrs Rosenstein looked exasperated. Percy didn't know why—his health insurance was up to date!

Percy placed his two daughters down and he felt Molly's arms wrap around Lucy, who was sobbing.

 _"I left some!"_ Lucy told Molly. "I left someone for everyone else! There was a lot of ice lollies!"

"I hope you haven't grown attached to your glasses, freak!" _Freak!_ _How original!_ Percy thought to himself. At least Marcus Flint was creative enough to call him a 'half-off Cornish pasty' before he sent him to the infirmary.

"Bernard, son… is that anyone bothering you?" Percy's eyes nearly popped out of its skull when _this_ … gargantuan _thing_ … stand up from his seat. He looked like a half-giant but reeked like a troll. _And he named his son Bernard!_ Percy personally thought that that was an insult to the dog! Percy closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. That really was his _SON?_ "What do you get off! Pushing around little kids! I think I'm going to teach you a lesson!"

 _LITTLE!_ Percy's eyes were about to pop. Bernard's arm weighed as much as the whole of Percy did!

"One moment, please!" Percy said, when he watched Bernard's father pull his arm up to swing him. _"MRS ROSENSTEIN!"_ he yelled. He heard her sigh and then rummage through her bottomless handbag.

"Where did I keep that emergency Floo powder?!" she looked excited when she pulled it out. "Come on, girls!"

Molly was clinging onto Lucy, and Percy felt his resolve weaken. _"I WANT TO DIE!"_ Lucy cried into her hands.

 _"LUCILLE, GO HOME!"_ Percy said anxiously, trying to prod his daughter along to Mrs Rosenstein's grasp. Molly looked like she was going to cry too, but she seemed more concerned for Percy as she eyed up Bernard's father.

Percy supposed that the play was for suitable for children compared to what that mongrel did to him!

On the outside, the bloke looked like he just thrashed him around a few times around the chairs and kicked him with his elephantine boot for good measure. On the inside of Percy's fragile body, this equated to three sore ribs, a bleeding mouth, a thumping headache, a swollen jaw and stomach cramps that made Percy thinking that he might be going into labour soon. The bloke even told him he'd do more but he was on probation! Percy was glad for the Dementors in Azkaban—if _this_ bloke was at full strength, Percy supposed he'd be in the hospital now with lockjaw.

Daphne ran towards him at some point, leaving their booth empty. "Percy!" she grabbed his arm. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Percy replied sarcastically and spat out what he looked like a tooth. It was covered in pink froth to match his underpants—well, it used to match his underpants before he wet himself in his fear. He looked up at Daphne, feeling like he was bleeding from every orifice. "I've just always wanted to test a vampire's patience!"

Daphne helped him up. "What did you say to him? Did you ask how many O.W.L's he had in school?"

Percy knew from the booth she could barely see the play, much less his two little girls. He only groaned in reply.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I think your Felix Felicis wore off!" she said. She stuck ice cubes to his swollen cheek.

After a successful day of selling ice lollies to children and a trip to the hospital, Percy went to Honeyduke's with three fractured ribs diagnosed and treated (they should be fine tomorrow), a potion for his facial swelling and pain and a nurse's invitation for a Floo call whenever he liked. Percy took extra pain potion just to forget what the nurse told him.

At two in the afternoon, Percy was due to do a photo op with some of the reporters from _The Daily Prophet!_

They told him to hold a box of the 'new and improved' ice lollies as they took a few pictures. Percy wanted to refuse because he looked awful and had just been out of the hospital. He barely had time to fix himself up.

"Don't worry," Daphne said, smirking towards him. "A few ribbons in your hair will brighten you up."

"Your future won't be so bright if you decide to take that route, Miss Greengrass," Percy replied apathetically.

In about twenty minutes, he was made up enough to look presentable (almost by his mother's standards too!) and was wearing Daphne's beautifully pressed Ministry robes, whilst holding a gigantic box in front of his not-really-white-but-it-was-once-white shirt. He smiled into the camera and hoped that he didn't look too like the twat he felt like.

"Would you eat one of the ice lollies?" one of the reporters asked. "It'll make for a great photo."

Percy's ears went red. "Of course not!" he said. "They're riddled with peanuts, which I am deadly allergic to and they're made with beef gelatine… _I'm_ a vegetarian!" He realised that he _shouldn't_ have said that because they were jotting down something and all he could think of was that they were probably writing down how the junior assistant to the Minister for Magic refused to eat the ice lolly that he was endorsing.

And he bet that they also mentioned that he was an extremist that wanted to fight for the right of Whomping Willows.

Mr Flume started to look woozy and red-faced afterwards, but Percy didn't know why! He knew Percy had a deadly peanut allergy—well, after what happened on that Halloween in 1994, he knew.

"Why is the Minister for Magic focusing so much on a frozen dairy product?" Rita Skeeter suddenly thrusted herself towards him and Percy himself was starting to feel woozy. "What about those that are facing the repercussions after the war? Is the Minister blind to others' suffering and continues to bask in his status as a hero of the war because his son is associated with Harry Potter? What are the Minister's future plans for the wizarding world?"

Percy felt like he was about to suffocate—and there were no asphodels in sight either! Daphne looked horrified.

"What do you think about your father becoming the Minister for Magic?" suddenly, the topic shifted.

Percy felt like he'd been smacked with a stone. They took more pictures. _"Pardon?"_ he wheezed.

"Didn't you leave your family four years ago because you did not agree with their practices? How does it feel to be serving your father now as the Minister for Magic?" Rita Skeeter asked him, with her acid green Quick-Quotes Quill jotting down something. Probably how he kept on wetting the bed until he was fourteen. "I heard you married a muggle and that she died during the Battle of Hogwarts defending herself! Can you comment on that?"

"That is absolute rubbish!" Percy replied before he could even think about what he just said. He was clutching tightly onto the box of ice lollies, feeling his fingers freeze off. "Audrey died _FOUR YEARS_ before the war!"

Percy froze afterwards. Nobody in his family knew that he got married— _AND_ he didn't go to Bill's wedding!

"What is your father's idea of his son dating a muggle?" a blond bloke asked.

"Although your father is known to fraternise with muggle objects, is he tolerant of the muggle lifestyle? Was the fight four years ago regarding his opposition to you marrying a muggle?" a broomstick-thin female added on. She had hair that was big enough to register for its own status in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "Do you think that it is uncanny that the Minister for Magic can run the wizarding world if he is not even able to keep his house under control? Do you believe that he has the capability to provide it with what it needs?"

They went around in more circles than a drunken Chaser and Percy refused to answer anymore questions.

After they had left the building, Percy felt very defeated and Daphne looked pale when Percy gave her those Ministry robes back to her. Daphne looked at him with confused eyes but nodded solemnly towards his direction.

"I'll see you in the office later today," Daphne said. Her voice was colder than the ice lollies they'd been selling today.

She turned to leave but paused. "You really are _married?"_ she sounded wounded, staring at him with big blue eyes. _"_ And-and you didn't trust _ME_ enough to tell me that? Because _I_ was under the impression that we're good friends!"

 _"Was,"_ Percy corrected, his heart sinking into his chest. She raised an eyebrow. "I _was_ married."

"Four years ago," Daphne said. He nodded his head. "And then she died before knowing the _real_ Percy Weasley!"

"She had an eclamptic fit after she gave birth to my daughters," Percy whispered softly.

 _"DAUGHTERS!"_ Daphne now looked disgusted as she stared at him. "No wonder your family hates you so much! If you wouldn't tell anyone that you got married and have children and-and… _how could you keep something that big from-from… HOW COULD YOU?_ From your _FAMILY?_ From your workplace? Are you _THAT_ insecure that you're afraid to bring other people into your children's lives? What am _I_ going to do to your babies, Percy? Am I, the big bad Slytherin, going to slit to their pretty throats in their sleep?" he winced at the thought. "Oh no, you're afraid that other people might _taint_ what you've already taught them! You're afraid they'd find out how much of a prat you are!"

Percy just stared at Daphne's long blonde hair fly in all directions as she spoke. Even unkempt, she looked perfect.

"No wonder that people think so poorly of you!" Daphne hissed under her breath. _"No bloody wonder!"_

Percy felt his heart ache the more that Daphne talked. He didn't mind what she said about him, but it destroyed him the way she criticised his parenting… which she had no right to. He was absolutely floored—and stunned speechless!

"Don't you have anything to say?" Daphne asked coldly, looking that she was going to cry. "Do you want to tell me more about how you hate Harry Potter, because obviously, he _DESERVES_ all that hate after he saved the whole world from extinction? Do you want to convince me otherwise—give me an excuse and tell me how you kept something that big to yourself for a _GOOD_ reason and that you aren't a _MASSIVE, SELF-CENTERED GIT_ either?"

"Yes, I've something to say." Percy's voice was emotionless. "You've been making my coffee wrong for six months."

Daphne collapsed into laughter. "You're hilarious, Percy!" she said. "That had to be a _JOKE_ , wasn't it?"

When she stormed off, he turned to Mr Flume, who was red-faced because he'd obviously listened in.

"I'll buy off the rest of the cases of the Pixie Puff ice lollies off you, Mr Flume," Percy said.

 _"ALL of it?"_ Mr Flume looked shocked. Both knew that he wouldn't have much reception after whatever the Daily Prophet would do to the article tomorrow. "Well… _um_ … I'll give you a discount."

He would need that discount. Percy believed that when the Daily Prophet article would run tomorrow, he'd have no job and he'd be permanently thrown out of his family. Daphne was sure to be thrilled!

By the time that he came home that night, he sighed in desperation. He had enough time to wash up and try to—he couldn't believe that he was saying this— _do his mum's laundry_. All twenty-bloody-six loads of it. Percy barely did his own laundry as it was! His _father_ was supposed to be taking the laundry down to the shops today because his mum had been feeling ill and that was what she came to see him about in the Ministry. Percy was also told that he had to do engaging presentations to boost the department's morale… for each Ministry department. What about Percy's bloody morale? He had been to the hospital today. The twins also told their father that they wanted _their shop cleaned tomorrow!_

 _"LUCY!"_ Percy yelled from the kitchen. He had a hole in his chest. He had shrunk down seventy-eight cases of Pixie Puff ice lollies into a bag and he was going to stick them into the freezer. "I bought you _PIXIE PUFF ICE LOLLIES!"_

Lucy screamed from the couch. _"I HATE PIXIE PUFF ICE LOLLIES!"_


	5. This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 1

_i wish i could explain how muc_ _h trouble this chapter was giving me. i had the next chapter of 'Muggle Me' typed up, but wanted to update both my fanfictions! this one nearly gave me an aneurysm. no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't produce anything._

 _i wanted to make Bill and Percy have a cute, fluffy moment... but then i remembered there's about 4 subplots that are simply orientated around the fact that Bill and Percy are not getting along._

 _guys, i tried to reread this, but i'm sure that there might be some mistakes... :(_

 ** _comment replies:_**

 ** _Guest: you can say that again!_**

 _ **closetkpopfan** : thank you! i am so thrilled to be anyone's favourite anything writer. i was ecstatic to hear you mention the idea that i had previously about Percy being abused by Penelope. i didn't know that people were interested in that idea since i got no feedback on it from the comments when i mentioned it in the fanfiction. i honestly think that canon Percy and canon Hermione are similar anyway. i think different people and different personalities grow and thrive in different way in circumstances. i think for example Percy is the kind of character that is very self-centered and it is hard for him to detach his feelings from things, and i think it comes across as him being arrogant. whereas i think Harry, for example, isn't at all. i think Hermione has Percy-like qualities, and i think that's probably why Ron wasn't exactly pleased with being around her from the beginning and found her so infuriating. i really love the idea that you have with Barty. it's very deep and well thought-out! either way, hopefully this chapter is worth the wait! _

_**Phoenixx Rising** : i love writing Daphne in this fanfiction. "And I might be totally evil, but I hope Percy refuses to let his family anywhere near his kids." you'e not evil at all! and as for the string of rotten luck, let's see how far i can stretch it out! _

* * *

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Five: This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 1

* * *

It was a beautiful Thursday morning. The sun was shining so brightly he felt like he needed a shielding charm just to get to work. The Fwoopers were singing. He was so uptight he had to explain his own joke to himself.

 _Please be aware that Fwoopers are African birds,_ Percy thought to himself. _They were most definitely not singing in London. This was merely a joke that made a reference to the fact that a Fwooper's song drives people insane... ha ha. I am so farcical!_

To compound his horrible mood, four-year-old Molly managed to wake him up at three in the morning because she couldn't sleep. Percy wondered how much she'd bloody like it if he woke her up at three in the morning because _HE_ couldn't sleep! She then proceeded to tell him about the rights of werewolves. What about _his_ rights? He also turned into a raging beast at the full-moon… _that_ was when his deadlines were! He'd managed an hour's worth of sleep last night, so right now, his eyes were so bloodshot that they made Chinese Fireballs look pale. For breakfast, he ate his nails. He also dissected the Herbology matter from the last piece of bread and toasted the remains. If he ended up in the hospital with food poisoning, then at least he'd have a decent meal for lunch tomorrow!

Today, Percy was wearing sweatpants to work. Yes, _SWEATPANTS_ to work. Well, with the amount his father was making him perspire from impromptu panic attacks in the break room, then he supposed it was fitting!

Well, _fitting_ being the key word. This was the only item of clothing Percy owned that actually _FIT_ him!

Mrs Rosenstein came around when his children were still asleep.

Percy had a quiet morning where he could sip his coffee by himself. He was avoiding _The Daily Prophet_ because he was sure if he saw it, he'd pretend he had dragon pox so that he wouldn't have to go into work for a week. Oh, and then he'd have to follow this up by pretending he _died_ of dragon pox. So, he wouldn't have to go into work forever!

The Ministry was abuzz. Percy should've run the second that he saw that even the woman behind the Ministry Munchies stand was staring at him like she was trying to decrypt him—as if he was writing on an ancient tomb. Wonderful! When Percy got to the Minister of Magic's floor, he felt a little more optimistic when he walked in and saw seven cups of coffee and a heaping, organised pile of reports on his desk.

When Percy sat down, he could see that each coffee cup had a letter and individually they spelled _I, MR ROSY_.

Percy examined his cauldron-black sweatpants and jumper. He didn't _look_ rosy. Maybe after seven cups of coffee…?

He had a near coronary when he heard his father yell, " _PERCIVAL! IN MY OFFICE! NOW!"_

When Percy walked into the Minister's office, he was holding his clipboard and quill for notes. Yesterday's notes were: _no wonder people think gingers are soulless_ and the egregious amount of work he had to do over the next twenty-four hours. When he got to item number thirty-five, Percy wrote in brackets: _I'd rather kiss a Dementor_.

Arthur slammed _The Daily Prophet_ article on his desk. He was fuming. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Oh, did Percy mention that _BILL_ was in the room? Percy inked his quill and wrote: _Merlin is having a laugh at me._

Astoria Greengrass looked like she was approaching a manticore. Percy should tell her that she shouldn't bother with her wand. Manticores were rarely subdued by wands. He supposed he should also mention that Britain had never seen one since they were natives to Greece. They also needed a very skilled, experienced wizard to be able to handle them with intricate caution. Percy supposed that they needed to Floo his mum for this one.

 _"Mr Weasley!"_ Astoria squeaked, looking close to tears. "It isn't that-that… _BAD!_ I quite liked the bit about how you're a muggle-hating misogynistic tyrant that has no business being in office— _it reminds me of my father!_ I love him dearly _although he is in Azkaban!_ Not to say that he deserves any less for-for nearly mucking off a muggle village by himself!"

"Thank you, Astoria," Arthur said, his voice had the same tone of indifference as Snape's had. "You may leave now."

The second that Astoria left, his father exploded faster than one of Fred and George's Wildfire Whiz-bangs.

"I thought today, I should deal with the equipment problem in the hospital! The hospital, Percival? Where people are busy dying every day because they don't receive adequate healthcare… so you could imagine my surprise when I've woken up in the morning to find out that _The Daily Prophet_ thinks I'm a misogynist because Rita Skeeter thinks that it's highly suspicious that I have _SIX_ sons, and only _ONE_ girl! She concluded that I must be domineering over them with my- _my male privilege!"_ Arthur yelled. Was it bad that despite the sheer puerility of that statement, Percy felt proud that he managed to have two little girls? " _THEN_ it gets worse! I discover through the papers that one of my children got married— _to a muggle girl_ —that _DIED_ —that I know nothing about!"

Percy chose to aggravate the situation. He said, "Your condolences aren't very well thought out."

 _"My condolences?"_ Arthur repeated, practically spitting into Percy's face.

Bill's hand was holding a ceramic mug. With his werewolf-like tendencies and scars marring his fast, his hand shook. His grip tightened until the mug broke into his hand. Percy flinched when blood started pouring from his freckled hand. Coffee spilled onto the ground, staining Bill's expensive dragonhide boots.

That was a perfectly good cup of coffee! Percy rolled his eyes. Arthur was going on about the hospital equipment problem and now, Bill was wasting resources by getting his hand slashed by his own fury!

"You have some _BLOODY NERVE_ … talking to _HIM_ like that!" Bill stabbed a blood-stained finger to Percy's chest. Was it horrible that Percy was just glad he didn't stain his black jumper? He didn't have a lot of clothing left.

Percy supposed _he started it!_ wouldn't help his cause. "You have the bloody nerve talking to _ME_ like that!"

Bill looked like he wanted to do to Percy what he did to the ceramic mug on the floor. Percy shuddered.

"Are you _this_ jaded? You've _RUINED_ this family!" Bill spat out. "I'm amazed Dad let you stay in your precious job!"

" _STAY?_ He never lets me leave this bloody place!" Percy said, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't had a good night's sleep from when he started this job. It had only been a few days, but Percy wanted to consider early retirement to prevent himself from having a dissecting aneurysm at the ripe age of twenty-five. "I've _SLEPT_ here!"

 _"Must be a dream come true!"_ Bill snorted. Why were people under the assumption that Percy didn't need to sleep?

Percy leaned to pick up his clipboard. He dropped it when Bill broke a ceramic mug. Percy also thought he wet himself a little when that happened, but at least he didn't have to go to the lavatory now! Arthur would be pleased, knowing how much he disapproved of Percy's basic bodily functions and necessities!

"I invited you to my wedding, you git," Bill told him. "The least you could've done was extended us the courtesy!"

Percy cocked his head to one side. Did Bill know that Percy got married way before he did? Right after his father told him that he never wanted to see his face again? Ha.

"Pardon me! Where were _you_ in the last decade of my life? Where were _you_ when the row happened? Where were _YOU_ when I was assaulted by a root vegetable on Christmas Day?" Percy was shaking from rage. "Why in Merlin's name should _I_ spend an egregious amount of money on a pair of dress robes I'll rent just to spend my afternoon watching you marry a woman I've never had the pleasure of meeting before? I have better things to do with my time!"

He had more interaction with Florean Fortescue's than he did with Bill. At least Charlie had the decency to write!

"There was a _WAR_ happening, you fool!" Bill yelled. "That could've been the last time that-that…!"

" _I_ didn't believe that there was a war happening!" Percy was wondering how in Merlin's name Bill had twelve O.W.L's. "You think I would let my child walk out of my house if I believe that there was a war happening? When you were sat there cowering in your safe houses after the whole of England knew about the war coming, did anyone bother wondering how _I_ was during this time? Or do you just fault me when it's convenient _for you_ without ever considering that _you_ might be wrong as well? I know I was wrong, but I'd rather eat Cockroach Clusters than apologise to people that have chosen to treat me like I'm something stuck on your precious dragonhide boot!"

"Do you like hearing yourself talk this much?" when Bill replied with that, Percy knew whatever else he said in this conversation was null and void. Also, he was in a horrible mood thank you for asking. _"PRAT!"_

"If you two children are done arguing, then I suggest you get to work," Arthur was very moved by Percy's speech.

Bill stormed out. Percy drew flying pasties on his clipboard. It was more productive than listening to his father.

"You are going to remedy this situation. _I_ do not have time to sit down with reporters at press conferences to talk about muggle politics with them," Arthur smoothed over his Ministry robes. Percy rolled his eyes, and then started drawing his father on the clipboard with devil horns—a wand, and shiny purple Ministry robes. "I enlisted the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts to use some of the fix some of the botchy muggle hospital equipment to send to St Mungo's by Monday. We are running on an tight budget and cannot afford to buy new equipment."

Percy's quill broke. Because his father was giving the bloody hospital dodgy, second-hand equipment! _"Pardon?"_

It wasn't bad enough that he did it to The Burrow, _NOW_ he wanted to do it to St Mungo's!

When Arthur told them both to leave his office, Percy felt like he needed a bottle of firewhiskey just to comprehend the fact that his father was considering giving seriously ill children, blokes and women IV lines that had already been used—and then taped back together by the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts! Would they also give them half-used bottles of antiseptic? Would they give them half-used bandages that had the blood siphoned off them? Did his father not understand the meaning of _cross-contamination?_ Why not introduce all the problematic _MUGGLE_ bacteria to their problematic wizarding ones! How the mere thought bugged Percy! (Pun unintended).

Percy laid his head on his desk. He had a thumping headache. He spent the next ten minutes contemplating what he was doing with his life.

The cups were still lukewarm to the touch. He then realised what _I, MR ROSY_ was, and Percy managed to even smile. First—and probably the last one of the day! He swapped the cups around to spell out _I'M SORRY_. Oh... _DAPHNE!_

"Which one do you like, Mr Weasley?" speak of the cocky witch! Daphne came before him in a charcoal face-mask. The length of her high heels could stab a bloke. She should've showed him those when he was contemplating what he wanted to do to Bill. "You did say I wasn't doing your coffee right for the past six months."

"When have _I_ ever been Mr Weasley to you?" Percy picked up the first cup. "I'm usually 'Oi, another freckled redhead!'."

"Apology accepted then?" Daphne asked. "Merlin, I heard you three shouting inside… it ruined my manicure!"

Percy choked when he took a sip of the first cup. At least that woke him right up. He felt like he just downed down Thestral sick.

"Manicure?" Percy wasn't the least bit amused. "You have work to do! _I_ don't run a beauty salon!"

Daphne leaned against his desk. "You run a beauty salon? As if!" she eyed his sweatpants, analysing his hole-to-fabric ratio. "Did you actually have to _PAY_ for those sweatpants, or did they give you those monstrosities for free?"

Percy rolled his eyes. He took a sip of coffee number two. Lovely. It tasted just like how Bill looked.

"Daphne, wash that rubbish off your face!" Percy threw Arthur's memo saying _BUY BISCUITS FOR GINNY_ in the rubbish bin. It was always 'Polish Ron's shoes', 'Check Harry's resume' and 'Write advice for Charlie's situation'! Now, _biscuits?_ Arthur didn't bloody pay him enough for hobnobs! "For I am about to do something outrageous, bold and unlike myself."

"You're going to tell me that I look wonderful in this frock?" Daphne twirled around in her beachy, aqua-blue sundress. "Because I _DO!_ I look so _STUNNING_ that I can't believe you can string along sentences when I'm sitting here, wondering how _I_ didn't trip the Ministry fire alarm! Are you sure you're not bent?"

"My wife would've noticed!" Percy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, it's a nice frock."

"Thank you," Daphne was pleased. She had her shiny, golden hair into a bun. "Can I take the rest of the day off?"

"What do you think, Miss Greengrass?" Percy replied. " _I_ need your help… _WE_ will examine my father's prototype hospital equipment. I will owl Penelope Clearwater about it. She currently works as a healer in St Mungo's."

Daphne whistled. " _Penelope Clearwater!_ That's the tart that you went out with in Hogwarts, isn't it?"

Percy's ears went red. "Penelope is _not_ a tart," he mumbled. He watched shrug her shoulders as if to say: _and I'm a house-elf_. "Penelope did _NOT_ decide to forget her underpants at home when we went to the Ministry Ball together! And she most certainly did not give the Kingsley Shacklebolt a private lap-dance at three in the morning because _she_ decided to drink enough firewhiskey to drown an alcoholic mermaid!"

" _I_ didn't forget knickers," she said. "I don't want panty lines!" Percy hoped that Molly and Lucy never said those words.

"In either accord, I will write to Penelope. According to the reports on my desk, the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts had, thus far, managed to 'fix' a nasogastric tube, and a cytobrush," Percy explained. "Penelope will be using this equipment _on myself_ —to help gauge the possible disaster that would ensure if a whole hospital decides to use my father's prototype hospital equipment. That then will dictate my next course of action."

Daphne nodded her head solemnly. "It'll erase everything on your calendar for the next month, Mr Weasley."

Percy rolled his eyes. It was nice she knew how much faith she had that he would come out unscathed!


	6. This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 2

_this chapter literally destroyed me. this fanfiction is so hard to write! after this chapter, hopefully, it'll be a flashback into Percy and Audrey meeting. i have a specific plot device to use with Audrey, but i'm not sure how i'm going to write it. just thinking about it freaks me out._

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising:** i wish i can make Bill nice, but there's like a few subplots i have built on the fact that Bill isn't nice. i was about to make him super nice, and then i realised it's going to muck up my whole fanfiction. so now i have to find out which characters i have to make nice! _

_**lazy123** : you are absolutely right about him meeting Fleur before. it's amazing cause it's information that i'm supposed to know, but i somehow forget about it even though i edit the chapters about a million times (you know, until the sentences don't even look like words anymore). this did, however, give me a tiny idea for Bill and Percy ;) as for the timeline confusion, that's me. i tried to make the timeline as vague as possible because i'm always afraid of making a commitment and then forgetting about it because i have done that before (multiple times). i had to look it up to make sure i said this but Percy is twenty-three (so at least it's past his birthday in August), and he does mention that Kingsley was in charge first but steps down, so it's been some time, but i didn't want to mention how long. it's probably been a few months, so Kingsley got rid of the whole 'there's a bunch of dead people in Hogwarts right now' problem and the burials and probably some of the shelter problems but there's still probably a lot of healthcare issues, property damage, etc. as for Molly and Lucy's ages, in my head, they met before the Arthur/Percy fight, and pregnant Audrey came into his life later on again after the row. the thing is it works out because originally, i wanted Audrey to be a one-night stand. i did sort of write more later on to sneak it in... which makes sense to me. but my biggest problem is that i haven't sat down and developed what i want Audrey to really be yet (i have an idea but i'm not 100% sure about it and her character is really difficult to write in this fanfiction for some reason), so i'm very tentative about it. as well as why she married him in a few months (because she'd be a one-night stand, then she'd come to him pregnant and she passed away shortly after giving birth so technically, they only knew each other for a few months but Percy's still thinking about her four years afterwards... so i really have to make this a good reason!). the whole of next chapter is a flashback, because there is a very specific plot device i want to use with Audrey._

 _ **Nix** : "I can get Percy redoing the admin work to prevent the faulty equipment from being used." in my head, if Percy does that, Arthur would still have to sign it off because nothing gets done without his say so as he's the Minister. though Percy's plan is to use the equipment to evaluate how dangerous it is to write a report about it, so it's just literally that except he wants a clear idea of what would happen if they were to use this equipment. and they're both being extremely stubborn. this is probably such an annoying fanfiction because i can resolve the tension between them in a chapter and then after, there will be no plot. Arthur is like 'this is what i'm going to do so i can show people that my department before was helpful' and Percy is like 'i'll go behind your back and show you why this is not a good idea because i know you won't listen to me since i bashed your department'. i think he might be a little unhinged because of sleep deprivation... and Daphne's just indulging it!_

 _ **Guest** : sorry! i had to reupload this becuase i forgot to answer this for you! i think it's mostly because it's been so long that he doesn't feel like he could reconcile, or the fact that it's been so long and he had so much going on into his life that he doesn't know how to basically tell his parents 'by the way, this is what happened in the last few years. by the way, i have children' because it'll bring up a lot of sore points, so he'd rather not deal with it. i think both Arthur and Percy feel guilty about it, but they get irritated more about the fact that the other, in their mind, doesn't care or isn't making a compromise. "Bill thought his wedding was a way to bring the family together before the war got even wrost. It was his way of extending a hand to Percy, giving him a chance, to make up. I suppose he felt as if Percy was throwing his kindness to his face, not even making an effort. Well, he does have legitimate reason for being angry. but still..." i know what you mean. i think it's more of a principle of the thing. 'i was willing to compromise' and you weren't. and i think that was a difficult idea for Bill to deal with. plus, i always think that since the attack, Bill is prone to manifesting his sadness with anger versus pre-attack. though this is just my thought!_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Five: This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 2

* * *

"Do you know what's funny about my wand?" Daphne fiddled with a strand of her Galleon-coloured hair.

They were currently in Penelope's office, which smelled like week-old pizza.

If that tortured-looking spello-tape on her desk was a sentient being, it would've begged to be euthanised. Sitting on Penelope's blue couch, Percy voiced out that he felt like he'd just had a prostate exam from all the springs poking where they shouldn't be. Daphne told him that that was efficient—didn't have to pay for that now, did he? Daphne snickered at him, but then sat on a chair. That was when she discovered where that rank pizza odour came from!

Percy was eating a pasty. "The fact that your wand is made from laurel, and your name means _laurel tree?"_

"No, the fact that my wand is made from laurel and—" Daphne groaned. "Is that your nerdy way of picking me up?"

"I'm not picking _you_ up… I can barely pick up the post that Hermes sends me sometimes!" Percy replied.

Maybe if the post was primarily made from pumpkin pastries instead of owls of the several things that his father wanted him to do. The gall of him! Who did he think he was? _The Minister of Magic?_

Daphne leaned forward to Penelope's desk, and wrinkled her nose. Percy supposed that was when Daphne accidentally inhaled the toxic fumes of Penelope's leftover tuna salad from at least a month ago. Percy was able to smell that _before_ he walked into the room. "How did you meet your wife? I mean, how do _you_ meet a muggle?"

"Pardon?" Percy stiffened. He didn't like being asked questions. He never scored above an A in social settings.

He chose chewing as an excuse for why he didn't immediately answer her question, but he could only chew for so long without looking like a goat. He was freckly, red-haired, and wore glasses that were too big for his horse face. The last thing he needed was more reasons for why he wasn't exactly on the cover of _Witch Weekly's_ beach body issue.

"Audrey was my friend," Penelope appeared by the doorway with hair shinier and more golden than Daphne's. Gringott's could probably accept a lock of her hair for a deposit. "Around the time that Percy started working in the Ministry, I tried to set them up. Well… _they_ didn't know it at the time! They're-they're both just absolutely hopeless when it comes to anything without an instruction manual! I tried to coax them into drinking the firewhiskey that I bought as a flat-warming present for Audrey. _Just to loosen them up!_ They were being difficult, and I didn't feel comfortable hearing Percy tell her about the Christmas tree shaped rash on his back. But… instead of loosening up, they had it off! And he then managed to forget about his powerful genes and put not one, but _TWO_ , buns in her oven!"

Percy no longer was hungry for his pumpkin pasty anymore. Well… the evidence suggested they used protection!

"Very romantic," Daphne said, rolling her eyes. "What did she say to get _you_ unclothed?"

"I could barely remember the night as it is!" Percy's ears went red. "I suppose she might've asked to see my rash!"

When Daphne burst into laughter, Percy was glad that he couldn't remember most of the humiliating things that he did that night—thanks to the fact that Penelope poured them her Forget-Me-Not firewhiskey! One sip of that, and frontal lobe dysfunction ensures! Percy was still paying for those _tattoos_ that he'd managed to get that night. At least Molly would know that he was all for werewolf rights since he had a howling silvery wolf on his arm, mocking him wherever he went! _HA. I'm a werewolf and even my nights aren't as crazy as you! Two babies in one night—and you can't even remember if the shag was good!_ He decided that he could show it to a fuming Bill whenever he was feeling wildly suicidal.

"Now, onto my order of business…" Percy stood up from The Couch of Prostatic Dismay. "With me, I have a notice that states that two bits of enchanted muggle equipment have been sent to the hospital—an irrigated muggle nasogastric tube, and a sterile cytobrush. I would like to test this equipment. When I have gauged the amount of danger that the residents of St Mungo's will be in if they use this equipment—using my favourite Danger Gauge-O-Meter that I received for my twentieth birthday from Roger Davies, then I will write a very detailed report to my father. He, as the Minister of Magic, cannot ignore the fact that people may die if they use this faulty equipment."

To seal the deal, Percy then said, "I will add _percentages_ to my paper… to the decimal! It will be… relentless!"

He noticed the shocked expression on Penelope's face. Her 'I can't believe that Pepper-Up Potion is sold out' face.

"He claims that he has twelve O.W.L's and he _still_ couldn't come up with a better plan!" Daphne rolled her eyes.

"My father will not listen to me unless I have irrefutable evidence that this equipment is dangerous!" Percy argued.

He knew this because his stubborn arse wouldn't take down those candy-coloured Christmas baubles from the tree until they made the tree implode. Percy was livid. The bauble that exploded only managed to destroy _his_ present!

"You two are _STILL_ fighting?" Penelope said in disbelief. Obviously, she didn't read the papers. Maybe she had some of today's papers, but they were hidden behind gobs of multicoloured flying memos and fuzzy pizza. " _HE'S THE MINISTER OF MAGIC!_ You're… you're his assistant! You're letting the wizarding world—who is _still_ recovering from a war—be led by a dysfunctional family unit that refuse to put aside their differences for the greater good?"

She sounded like she should be working for those reporters!

"Well, _HE_ started it!" Percy said, waving his arms around dramatically. "I'm not apologising. I'm the victim here! Having to buy biscuits for Ginny and polish Ron's shoes like-like I'm nothing more than a freckled house-elf!"

Penelope shook her head. "I'm not the right healer for you," she mumbled. "I don't do psychiatry!"

"I'm not mentally ill," Percy mumbled. This was not the first time he used that statement before in his life.

"You are the perfect healer, Penelope!" Daphne leaned across the desk. "Because he's acting like a child."

Both of them started laughing. _"FINE!"_ Percy yelled. "Go ahead… enjoy your second-hand nasogastric tubes!"

He stormed out of the room, which he realised was very childish. But he would not stand there and be laughed at! Percy had already endured ten lifetimes of humiliation. His pain and concerns were nothing but folly to others.

Why was nobody ever on _HIS SIDE?!_ Percy wondered bitterly. Maybe he and his father's row had gotten out of control. Fine. He understood that much, but what exactly did they want him to do? Walk into his father's office, burst into tears and beg for forgiveness and ask his father to take him back into the family that used to belittle him and laugh when his Christmas present exploded? After Arthur happily let him stay in his office finishing up paperwork he would never read? As far as Percy was concerned, he already _HAD_ a family… that his father was taking him away from!

Percy disapparated away from St Mungo's with a _pop_ and apparated to his flat.

He was in a foul mood, and he walked in on Lucy and Molly sat in their favourite nightgowns, bright blue and pastel yellow respectively, at two in the afternoon. They were lying opposite to each other, belly-down on big, fluffy pillows they stole from his room. Mrs Rosenstein was so surprised to hear the door slam shut that she woke up and pulled out her wand and yelled, _"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"_

Percy collapsed to the ground afterwards. Wonderful. At least she didn't stupefy him.

"Oh! You mustn't scare me like that, Percival!" she chided him, like _he_ wasn't the one in a full body bind. After administering the counter-curse, she went off to pour him some tea. "What are you doing home from work? Did another one of your trousers disintegrate in the middle of the working day and you just came to fetch a new one? Did you decide to pursue a writing career like I've told you instead of being holed up in that office all day? Which reminds me… I have some clippings that might interest you—have you ever considered taming dragons? It's less dangerous than the impending coronary that you're going to have if you don't leave that-that office!"

"It doesn't matter, Mrs Rosenstein," Percy collapsed on his fuzzy-pizza-less, non-prostatic-dismay loveseat. He was never to leave the house ever again. "For I have come home to die a slow and painful death."

They might have to sell Molly's new expensive white-and-pink robes to pay for housing, but Percy would make do.

"That's nice, dear," the tea cup levitated to the table just beside Percy. Mrs Rosenstein jumped up, as a card exploded. Lucy dissolved into laughter, but Molly dropped the rest of her playing cards and went to her room. Also, to die.

"That girl has been acting strange all day!" Mrs Rosenstein said. "This morning, she told me she didn't even want to bother with the butter on her crumpets, because what's the point? She'll eat butter, digest butter and tomorrow, there won't be any butter. So, they'll buy more butter... and then the world will end in a fiery pit of doom and despair."

"Molly said _that?_ " Percy mumbled. He supposed he should also stop wishing for death and decay around his children—maybe he'll start tomorrow. "She doesn't even like butter! She said it tastes too… _buttery!"_

"I think it tastes nice!" Lucy said, not the least bit unnerved that Molly locked herself in their room.

"Do you now? Did you read that particular nugget of knowledge in _The Practical Potioneer?"_ Percy used his wand to levitate Lucy off the ground, who immediately started to burst into laughter. She was whizzed around the room in loops and twirls before landing on the couch that they mutilated. "Are you sure it doesn't taste too… _buttery?_ What's your argument against that?" Percy asked, picking her up into his hands and then tickling her belly.

"I don't like _The Practical Potioneer!"_ Lucy replied. Mid-tickle, she reached out to hug him, burying her head in his belly. "It's not very practical! No, Dad, _I_ read _Transfiguration Today!"_ Yes, his four-year-old read scholarly journals.

His _Parenting Without A Wife, Crup Or Copious Amounts of Firewhiskey Instructional Manual_ said to implement routines and schedules for the child's day. Every afternoon, Percy made sure that Mrs Rosenstein settled his children down for a afternoon nap. In page 194, titled ' _How to Ensure Your Children Do Not Turn to Dark Arts'_ , the author insisted that having eight hours of sleep a day at least would ensure that his children did not become small Inferi!

It also told him that they should be aware of what their conception entailed _('I slept with a woman I barely knew because I was fatally intoxicated and loathed myself')_ into a story-like sequence, with repeated mentions of how much he loved them.

When Lucy fell asleep, he carried her over to her and Molly's room.

After making sure that Lucy was tight and snug as a disgusting insect in their tattered purple rug, he turned his attention to Molly. She was sat on the side of the bed, her pale, teeny-dimpled hands on her knees.

Percy sat down beside her, and she looked up with an annoyed facial expression. " _I_ want to meet my grandparents."

He felt like he had peanut butter stuck in his throat and was about to go to anaphylactic shock. He could not consult his manual about what to do. In fact, this was supposed to be nap time. "Oh," Percy swallowed his doom. " _Oh."_

Thus far, Percy had pandered to every single wish that either of his children had. No matter how silly it was. But the thought that there will be a day where they asked him for something that he could've give them terrified him.

"It's okay," Molly said, breaking Percy out of his thoughts. He didn't particularly know what was okay.

"Well, well… I suppose that—" Percy ran his hand through her hair. She had her mother and her grandmother's hair—angry red locks, like a Kneazle tried to wrangle it to death. He'd bet it could scare a Dementor. He picked up her hairbrush, slipped in a dab of expensive magical hair cream and combed through them. "Well, I—"

"It's not fair that Lucy always wins," Molly crossed her arms over her chest. "It's so stupid."

Percy wanted to ask her what was really on her mind. Why did she suddenly bring up wanting to see her grandparents? As he brushed her hair straight, he felt his heart ache.

He'd kept his little girls all cooped up in this little flat all their lives! He was sure his manual did not tell him to do that.

"I know," Percy placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with big, brown eyes. "How about we play?"

He hadn't played Exploding Snap in years. Mrs Rosenstein was the one that explained what the game to them. He felt a little red-faced that his own daughter had to explain to him the rules of the game. Lying on his belly on a pillow gave him a stomach ache. The first time, he kept showing his card. Which apparently, defeated the purpose of the game.

Mid-game, Molly fell asleep on her pillow, and he carried her to her room.

There were so many things he wished his parents had asked him when he was Molly and Lucy's age. The war loomed over him, a shadow of gloom and doom. His children did not escape it. They were living in the consequences _NOW_.

What was he supposed to do when Lucy asked what the shelters in Diagon Alley were for? What validation could he give to Molly that she would accept—about not wanting to see his bloody mother? What was Percy supposed to say? How far could he cloud their lenses? Could he risk them not being able to see?

Percy did not feel very well. He knew that he was supposed to apparate back to the hospital, or the office but he didn't.

Instead, he apparated to the Burrow for the first time in years. Just staring at the house gave him a trepidation he usually only felt when he was first taking his O.W.L's. Suddenly, every decision that he'd been making by himself for the last few years weighed heavily on his long limbs. He could barely lift his hands because the consequences of his actions proved to be too heavy for him to cope with. He suddenly just felt _so wrong_. Percy's head pounded.

He still knew where they hid the spare key, because Charlie always lost the copies that Arthur made for him. He held the tiny, rusty golden contraception to his nose and took a deep breath.

It succeeded in doing nothing but giving him asthma.

The Burrow seemed empty when he walked inside. His childhood home looked exactly the same and yet nothing like he remembered. Percy looked at the family clock, and his heart sunk into his chest. He was the only one home.


	7. This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 3

_this is a flashback scene. it's meant to be Percy reminiscing about meeting Audrey at her flat. it's going to go back to the original plotline in a second. it's just their backstory is so convoluted, i though might as well put some flashbacks! previously, Audrey's personality was SO different but... this is easier to write with what i have in mind. the reason why i went so long without updating is because i had so much trouble fine-tuning Audrey's personality for this one! but now i have two more flashback scenes i can use... just not consecutively i feel!_

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **closetkpopfan:** writing Percy being gentle with his daughters is my favourite! personally, i prefer the idea of Audrey vs. Penelope. Audrey is a blank canvas. she could be whatever you want to be but Penelope is somewhat established. _

_**Phoenixx Rising** **:** i love how forever Team Percy you are. i love it!_

 _ **Son of Whitebeard** **:** thank you so much for your comments. i hope you enjoy this chapter! _

_**Matthew W. Kirkland**_ _ **:** i'm so glad you're enjoying it!_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Five: This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 3

* * *

Percy remembered how Audrey looked like when he met her. Her lifeless auburn hair twisted into more loops than it took to make a Quidditch hoop. She had more spots than a dragonpox victim. Her glasses were almost bigger than his!

"This is Percy, my other friend, who is single," Penelope said, placing a hand on Percy's arm. "He also reads books."

"I do not just _read_ books, Penelope," Audrey said, her voice so stern that Percy bet a werewolf in Japan could just to be able to hear her. Her tone was sharper than Ollivander's… well, whatever he used to make wands. He bet that it was very pointy. "I own several bookstores. So… if you read books that often, I would've seen you in at least once."

Percy would like to stab her with that pointy thing of Ollivander's now. He felt like he was failing a job interview.

"Th-that's… nice," Percy stuttered. Was that a _RASH_ on her neck? "But I don't frequent your bookstore because—"

"You don't live in London? That's obvious from _that_ accent," Audrey nodded as she inspected the tea sandwiches she made. She looked to be critiquing herself. Percy was flabbergasted, mostly because they looked like they could be featured on _Witch Weekly_. "Well… I suppose I do 'read books'. Though I'm not sure what you consider literature."

 _What was wrong with his accent?_ Percy fumed, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Well… I read…" he tried to rummage his brain for the two muggle books that he read for his Muggle Studies class. _"The Hobbit!"_

That was when he remembered he also read _To Kill A Mockingbird_. His life was a dreary vortex of misfortune.

"I'm sure it taught you a lot of life lessons," Audrey said. "It did when I read that book… when I was five."

Percy was about to faint. Maybe she could revive him. He bet she could manage to cardiopulmonary rescuitate a ghost back into life. She sounded like she could double his O.W.L scores. "Oh," he rubbed his arm.

He had to pick up a dictionary reading that book. Sure, it was a muggle to wizard dictionary but… still!

Besides, what did that Tolkien bloke get off anyway? Percy read things that made more sense in _The Quibbler_ … which he was an avid subscriber to since he'd been able to understand sentences. But he was in the closet about it. Of course, when he told people that he was in the closet about something, they always had the wrong idea for some reason!

"Why don't you tell me about yourself? Is it Percival or Perseus?" Audrey asked. She didn't maintain eye contact with him, and he had trouble believing she wasn't a heliopath. "And do you look at everyone's rashes or just mine?"

"Percival!" Penelope scowled at him. At least that answered Audrey's question. "That's… so rude!"

Bill, too, would've been unimpressed with his rash-gazing behaviour. _It's rude to look at other people's imperfections! How would you like it if I did that to you, Four Eyes?_ To think that years from now, Bill's face would be clawed off by a rabid wolf and he'd still look more elegant and refined than Percy in his best clothes… on his wedding day.

"I-I didn't mean to… Miss! I… _I HAVE A RASH TOO!"_ Percy's ears went red. "It's on my back and shaped like a Christmas tree. Unfortunately, it is not seasonally correct, but… fortunately, it is absolutely perfect for Hallowe'en this month! If you'd like to go with me… as-as… _an angry spirit of fire!"_ most women did not like to be called angry spirits of fire, so Percy was sure that he was not qualified for his job as this woman's friendly acquaintance!

"What do you mean _an angry spirit of fire?"_ Penelope ranted off to Percy. She did not look flattering at all, wearing that frock. Then he remembered that he bought her that frock for her birthday. "What do you get off, mate?"

Instead of being disgusted and hoping he would disapparate away into his fatal doom, Audrey… smiled into her glass?

"I… I like seasonally incorrect things," Audrey said. "Well… I didn't know Valentine's Day comes in October too."

"I am not a Valentine," Percy didn't understand she was— _um_ … flirting with him. " _THIS_ is just my hair!"

"Don't listen to him, Audrey! He's… _single!"_ Penelope stressed to Audrey—again. At the time, it hadn't percolated through Percy's brain that she was trying to set him up with Audrey. "I think I'll pour you both a drink. How's that?"

Before waiting them to answer, Penelope poured them both the firewhiskey she bought Audrey as a flat-warming gift.

Audrey knew so little about alcohol that she had more queries about what a whiskey was than what firewhiskey was.

As he drank, he plopped a chicken sandwich into his mouth and chewed. At the time, Percy was not vegetarian.

In fact, he only turned vegetarian after he left his Burrow. In his first day in his new flat, Percy avoided having a Sunday roast with the neighbours by telling them that he didn't eat meat. Unfortunately for him, he felt like he had to carry on the charade. So, for a full-year, he made sure that no roasted animal parts were wafting from his flat—only cold baked beans in a can and his jam doughnuts (without any animal-based gelatin) at six in the morning. He did not eat any at work, just in case his neighbours could smell the scent of pork pies wafting off him. They had a German Shepherd… Percy knew that that- _that foul beast_ would be able to smell it on him! With his startling red hair, that bloody hound thought he was a fire hydrant. Percy did not know how, but there was the time that he was invited to the Minister's office and burst into tears when he almost ate venison. He supposed that 'fake it 'til you make it' really did apply to him. That day, the Minister spent an hour trying to calm him down as Percy screeched _DEER… DEER!_

The Minister's reply? _I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Mr Weasley!_

Right now, Percy was eying the carpeting Audrey chose for her flat. Her flat was so clean that it made Fudge's wife's pearls look muddy. He made a mental note to spring clean his room. There was a time were his Prefect and Head Boy badges gleamed more than his Narcissa Malfoy's wedding ring… if only he knew where the blasted things were now!

Penelope cleared her throat and Percy looked up. Maybe she swallowed his badges when they slept with each other.

"You two should make eye contact for longer than five seconds!" Penelope suggested. "It'll help you both loosen up."

Percy and Audrey looked at each other for exactly six seconds before they turned away—Percy faced a picture of young Audrey with a birthday cake covered in strawberries. She didn't have any rashes then. Audrey turned to fixate on the loaves that Penelope bought over. They looked like they were about to come to life and attack her marmalade.

"I think you two have a lot in common," Penelope prompted. "It might be good for you to _talk_ to each other."

When they did not say anything, Penelope shoved them towards each other. He choked on his first sip of firewhiskey.

He was so close to her that he realised that she could smell the wand polish on him. He could smell a strong floral smell wafting from her hair. If he was a phoenix, this would be a good time to burst into flames from embarrassment.

"Any topic is better than this awkward, impenetrable silence," Penelope suggested. _Ha_. Penelope said _penetrate_.

Audrey inched even closer to Percy. She ran her finger against the rim of the grey cup. Really nice actually. Percy had underpants the same colour as Audrey's mugs. Meanwhile, Percy dared to run his hand through The Unruly Thing—which served only to make it… _unrulier_ and greasier than one of his mum's fry-ups.

"Penelope told me you had a classified government job," Audrey said. "And apparently, now… a fungal infection."

 _"Pardon?"_ Percy's face was red now, and she just smirked into her cup. "I most certainly do not!"

"Okay," Audrey said. She picked up one of her pigs in blanket to nibble on. "But you do. That Christmas tree pattern on your back is almost characteristic of a fungal infection. I thought you'd know… considering how much you read."

Percy didn't know how he was going to tell his mum his new friend rejected him because he didn't read enough.

Penelope was white. She grabbed his arm and whispered into his ear, " _This_ is how you sound like to everyone else!"

They drank together in a dimly lit room. Percy did not know why Penelope lit up the vanilla candles that she got Audrey for Christmas… which was months off from now. He also did not know why she told him to feed Audrey a chocolate truffle. She only accepted dark chocolate, for its high antioxidant content.

During this time, Percy found out that Audrey Claire Brown was eighteen years old. When she turned eighteen a few months back, her father decided to retire and give her the shop to own and run. Audrey said it came almost natural to her that she 'basically worked in a bookstore all her life'—which Percy said was the biggest hyperbole he'd ever heard. When he said that, Audrey looked mildly amused. It was so unnatural he was sure Penelope nearly had a heart attack.

"Unbelievable," Penelope said when Audrey had to push up her glasses. She almost chuckled!

Percy raised an eyebrow. That was what he said! Audrey's statement had to be a hyperbole. Of course, it was unbelievable. Sometimes, he didn't understand Penelope or why she needed to keep three cases of wine in her flat!

Penelope leaned to Percy, "Don't touch her mouth. Snog her… _there_." She whispered. "You're good at that."

 _"Where?"_ Percy didn't know where in Merlin's name she was talking about!

By the time that it turned six, Penelope said that she was about to leave so that 'they could get to know each other more without her pestering them'. They sat in silence for most of the evening, drinking from Penelope's firewhiskey bottle because Penelope went through all that trouble to make them eat homemade chocolate-dipped strawberries. He promised Penelope that he'd stay until eight at the very least. This was not a problem for him. Percy had to suffer through much worse… such as Quidditch tournaments he went with his family. How unbearable!

Penelope told them they should get dinner too and tried to tell Percy to snog her… _somewhere_.

After some time, Audrey looked away from him to smile, because she realised that she'd been wearing a jacket indoors for two hours now. They were in her flat! And she was just about to complain about the heat!

.

Percy wished he could remember how he and her, the most boring people in Britain, managed to have it off that night!

He could not remember what happened that evening, but he woke up in her bed the next morning—at seven o'clock.

They both drank so much water last night that he recalled them spending much of the night taking turns in the lavatory. Whilst he could remember that vividly, the rest of the night was a blur! At least he was now sure that his pounding headache was not from dehydration, but rather him digesting his own stupidity!

Audrey was already up! Of course… she was sat on the other side of the bed, in her fluffy, red full-sleeved pyjamas.

The only evidence that he'd done anything was the fact that there was a condom in the rubbish bin. He knew it was his, because Charlie gave him that condom about five years ago when he assumed Percy would need it… at _thirteen!_

Their clothes from last night was folded into a chair, and Percy noticed that he was wearing an oversized grey t-shirt with holes in it that smelled like flowers, and a pair of oversized pyjama red bottoms. He didn't ask her whose pyjamas he was wearing but he hoped he wouldn't find out that she had a six-foot-four, fifteen stone bloke in her life.

She was nursing a bowl of porridge. She invited him to eat with her when she offered him a spoon… which was so pretty and clean that Percy did not want to soil it with the bacteria growing into his mouth. Percy was so eerily shocked by how neat she was that instead of being horrified by the fact that he slept with her, he was more focused on whether or not he'd bothered shaving The Unruly Forbidden Forest. He was sure he could start his own Herbology greenhouse in his pants alone. Well… _red house_.

Here he was! Having it off with a muggle girl that he barely knew, eating porridge in her flat the day after!

How he'd descended down into a life of melancholy and perpetual remorse… how dare he have it off with a _woman?_ Didn't she know that they could almost always do better than _him?_ Someone with properly aligned teeth at least?

It wasn't like he was good in bed either. He needed a diagram to be able to know where to put it!

"I hope that you don't mind that I've cracked open the window. I find the weather to be pleasantly acceptable today," was Audrey and him having small talk after what they'd done last night? Percy was wished he could set his brain matter on fire. He'd risk losing all his O.W.L's for it. "I saw gardenias being delivered downstairs to the neighbours."

"Nice?" Percy said. Why was it cold today and why was the window open? It was only October! Percy bet that his blood was so cold even vampires refused to sink their teeth into it for fear of getting irretractable frostbite. "No wonder the shops started selling Christmas products now! They aren't sure if England would make it this year if it gets any colder. I suppose… if you don't want to feel your genitals, then it is absolutely wonderful weather!"

"Well…" Audrey looked away from him. " _I_ _can't_ … but I'm particularly sure it has nothing to do with the weather."

Percy choked on his oats. He hoped she ground up peanuts into her oats and he was going to die.

"Well! Um… you said… _gardenias?"_ Percy reiterated. "I heard you say something about gardenias being delivered."

Gardenias were traditionally wedding flowers. Was this her way of _proposing?_ Percy felt so embarrassed. He couldn't say no to women. Everyone knew that was rude. Merlin, _how was he going to explain THAT to his mum?_

Audrey nodded her head. "Yes. They're my favourite flowers," she said. "I was just making polite conversation."

Percy's shoulders sagged with relief. Now, what was her date of birth, height, weight and education level? Percy wanted to know as much as possible, so he didn't feel like he just soiled her flowery fallopian tubes.

"Audrey?" Percy cleared his throat. "About-about last night…"

Merlin, his mum would think he was working late! That was almost worse than her knowing the truth.

"Yes?" Audrey looked confused. "Oh yes… I'll write a terrible review on their website about that whiskey!"

He put in a whole mouthful of cold oats into his mouth. Could he self-diagnose himself with pancreatitis? He had a pain originating in his abdomen, radiating to his back. And apparently, as of last night, Percy was now an alcoholic!

"Though I feel conflicted…" Audrey ate more of her inedible oats. Hermes wouldn't eat that without sugar and butter. "They were as advertised— _forget-me-nots!_ I think I have more memory of my own conception… which, well… _yes_."

"No… well… I…" Percy did not read enough books. If he read enough books about this matter, he'd handle it better!

"Do you like orange juice?" Audrey offered him a cup. He took a sip and he realised that even this did not have sugar. Percy wondered if the sugar cubes she had next to the tea were sweet, or if they just looked normal. "Yes?"

"Well… yes… I…" Percy stammered. "I… I apologise for that-that imprudent thing that I've done last night."

He then realised it might sound like he wished that he hadn't sleep with a woman that was flatter than a chessboard.

"Well, I-I can most definitely tell that you're a remarkable woman… well, from the little that I do know about you—an excerpt!" Percy went even redder. He didn't think it was possible. He may have burst a blood vessel in his brain. "But I'd preferred to have slept with you in a much more lucid state, preferably—say… _at around chapter twenty!"_

Audrey was beaming but chose to hide her smile into her oversized sleeve. She now smelled like soap.

"Well, regardless… thank you for a night I'll…never forget!" Audrey tried to contain her smile.

Percy was sure that his insides really wanted to be outside. They might even look more appetising than Audrey's oats.

"Did you understand?" Audrey beamed. She noticed his lack of response, her face fell. "Well, it was a joke. Um…"

"I understand," he prompted. Percy did not know why his heart warmed at that? Was this indigestion from the juice?

 _At least they used protection!_ Percy thought to himself. At that time, it never did it come to his mind that they might've done it more than once and that was why Audrey couldn't… feel her genitals. He only ever owned one of Charlie's 'emergency wallet condoms'. Penelope was on the potion, so he never really had a chance to use it.

He took a shower in her flat, which felt more intimate than having breakfast with her. All this felt more intimate than the fact that he'd actually managed to sleep with this woman. Percy was now even more sure that he did because he had rips in his underpants that were not there before, and he felt sore in… unnatural places.

Percy was sure that despite his many O.W.L's, he would probably never find out what happened last night.

Fortunately, he did not think he wanted to know, especially when he realised he now had more ink on his body than he did in his reports! Percy nearly fainted seeing the drawings scrawled all over him. He was not opening a shop in Knockturn Alley. He did not need these! He decided that his first order of business was going back to his flat to read the Ministry's Complete Book of Rules and Regulations Since 1945: The Extended, Revised Version to make sure that having mythical beings tattooed to various parts of his body wasn't against the law. If it was not against the law, he might consider sending it a few owls to the Minister asking _why the bloody hell not!_ Percy would say that he considered removing them, but he had a problem not using something he paid for.

Later that night, Percy apparated to her flat again because he was bothered by the fact that he slept with a woman and then left her flat with more questions than answers! So, Percy prepared a list of questions that he wrote on a piece of parchment paper. Regrettably, he spilled coffee on it during a mental breakdown in Crouch's office. Now, he had to rely purely on his short attention span and deteriorating memory to ask her these questions.

When Audrey opened the door, she looked a surprised to see him there. He'd say that she was expecting her local Chinese takeaway, but he doubted that she knew what _oil_ and _sweet and sour sauce_ were.

"Hello," Percy said. He wondered if she had any ink on her body—'like a book, like a book, like a very educational manual on werewolf rights' he told himself. That was question thirty-five, but he decided that it was too inappropriate. "I… I have a set of questions that I believe that-that only you… you could answer."

"Well, Percival…" Audrey was wearing heels. She was almost five feet tall! "I only really have time for one question."

A question? A singular question? Percy felt like he was in Hogwarts again, pestering Professor Flitwick at one am!

"Well…the question th-that's been bothering me since I left…" Percy ran his hand through his hair. Was she hurt? Did she really eat that for breakfast? Did he break her pelvis? She was very small. "Do-do we have a relationship status?"

Audrey just shook her head. "I don't think we do, Percival." He did not ask her if she could now feel her genitals, and he did not tell her that he was still trying to swallow the lump of her dry, bland oats. "Do you want us to…?"

"Not in particular," Percy said, but then he felt bad. Because he supposed he should most definitely want a relationship with this woman that he slept with. It only made sense! "Are you… are you alright, Audrey?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Audrey nodded her head. "My health is in check. My favourite café started selling sugar-free hazelnut syrup! Well… well, I don't really like hazelnuts but it's one step closer to them serving me my soy latte with _sugar-free_ vanilla! I also sold a rather battered copy of _Wuthering Heights_ today to a desperate student in sixth form!"

Percy didn't know if she was lying. Of course, _he_ was lying to her, but that didn't seem particularly relevant especially since his worries were mostly related to the fact that he was very burnt out from all the work that he had to do.

"Is… is that all?" Audrey asked. "I do have a job, you know."

"Yes, that's just fine—oh… _wait, no!"_ Percy got his rucksack out. His two days of paperwork managed to fall onto the ground—most of which were stabbed red. He felt like Snape was marking his papers!

"I don't know if I have enough insurance to cover for a heart attack," she said. "They're very expensive, you know."

"I'm… I'm not having a heart attack, madam! Miss… Audrey Claire Brown!" Percy ate that inedible mealy porridge in the morning. That should protect his heart for at least a decade. Oh, Merlin be good, how long had that pot of tuna pasta salad been in his rucksack? He'd been wondering what the funny smell in his office was. He just assumed that it was that new bloke that barely took a shower to conserve the environment! And did he have _spello-tape_ in his rucksack? He'd been looking everywhere for that blasted thing! Did you know how much trouble it would've saved him today?

"Are you sure?" Audrey raised an eyebrow. "What is _that smell?_ It's rank!" maybe now, he was having a heart attack!

"I… _WELL_ , this… this is for you!" Percy managed to get a two-knut bookmark out of his back. There was a very badly drawn gardenia on the very top of it. It looked almost sexual. He was three for three, right?

"Oh…" Audrey stared into his eyes for a little bit. "Very well." That was when he noticed she had a scar on her lip.

When he noticed that she noticed what he was staring at, Percy flushed. She placed her hand on it and glared at him.

"Yes… well, it was nice meeting you. Though I am particularly sure that it is likely that we will never see each other again," Percy cleared his throat. "I-I… I hope that your favourite café continues to serve…nuts."

Percy wished he spilled his coffee on his genitals instead of his parchment paper. To punish himself for being the world's biggest wally plonker twat. "Goodbye, Audrey."

"Goodbye, Percival." She nodded her head, with her hand still on her mouth. "I… I sent a loaf for Penelope. The one she bought as a flat-warming gift was so unsatisfactory. I'll… I'll do the same for you. Since we're… yes… _alright!"_

"Yes…? Yes what? What _are_ we?" Percy asked, but then Audrey slammed the door. "Audrey! _Are you alright?"_

When he heard sobbing, he knocked on the door again. "Audrey, can we talk?" she didn't even tell him to go away.

 _"I'm sorry I upset you!"_ Percy yelled. "You… you don't have to make a loaf for me! My mum feeds me a lot!"

"Really!" Percy continued. "You should come over for Christmas as my… friend… person that I shagged…bookstore owner! She'd… she'd feed you so much that-that you might… graduate to a size four!"

Soon after, Percy gave up. He could see that Audrey closed her lights. He didn't want to keep her up another night.

"The weather is nice, isn't it?" Percy yawned "It's… well, I can't feel my groin. But… you'd _love_ this weather!"

Percy supposed that was a no, because she didn't answer him. In fact, she didn't bother answering him for the rest of the week either. After that, he got extremely busy because Crouch was owling in sick so often! Percy wished he could understand. But he was the bloke that slept with a woman and then gawked at the lip scar. He didn't even know what the name of her bookstore was, or what her favourite café was…

But four years later, his coffee order was now a soy vanilla latte with sugar-free syrup. Daphne made him about fifty cups of coffee in the past week alone, but she still hadn't managed to figure that one out!


	8. This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 4

_i have a very weird reason for me having have not updated for ages. truth be told... i took the time off to continue writing that flashback story i mentioned in the past chapter. Percy and Audrey's mini story actually lasts about **10 **chapters now (which i still have to revise but they are more or less completed with maybe only a little bit of editing to be done.) because i was terrified of mentioning something about Audrey and Percy's relationship in present and then write the flashback scenes as separate chapters without any continuity since i might mention things in presents... and forget about them completely during the flashback scenes because the flashback scene is chapter 20, but the thing i mentioned was in chapter 5 that i'd forgotten completely about! i hope that makes sense...?_

 _so technically, i didn't completely go off. i **did** write 10 chapters that i cannot use just yet. i bet that's fun for you guys! i haven't the daftest were to put them either. _

_i wish i was one to write outlines. the thing is i do write outlines, but if you saw my outlines for 'This Cytobrush Costs How Much', you'd realise i'd veered off so much from that outline that it's ridiculous. there are still plotlines in the original outlines that i want to use, but... apparently, not yet!_

 _i will try to update 'Muggle Me' shortly. i have written 3/4 of a chapter but i am not impressed with its material! i'm at a bit of a block really.  
_

 _ **comment replies:** _

_**Lazy123** : i think i corrected it back and just deleted that line... you are definitely not wrong in your trivia!_

 _ **Guest** : that lip scar is a whole plotline on its own! i'm not even sure when to bring that up again._

 _ **Son of Whitebeard** : i've never been told i've written anything kinky before! i didn't know i was capable!_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : the Audrey/Percy in this fanfiction is a little messy to say the least. in this fanfiction, it's a little weird, because i wrote it in a particular way... and then got stuck writing the flashbacks because i realised that technically, this means that Audrey and Percy got together. she got pregnant but didn't tell him until he left the Burrow, which would make sense why he'd not mentioned it then...but it also means i have like 2 months to build their relationship to the point of marriage since i assumed that Percy left the Burrow in early summer (May) and they had to be born before Percy's birthday for it to be accurate (so around late July and early August)... such a loopy catastrophe i've thrown myself into! i even mentioned in the first flashback they were in November for it to be accurate. since with twins, you'd give birth to them around 36-37 weeks, which would fit around late July/early August... just to get my facts straight!  
_

 _ **Lena** : thank you so much. sorry for the long wait!_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Eight: This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 4

* * *

Percy was gone from work for three hours. He was still sat in the Burrow. His arse was practically spello-taped to a couch that had more animal excrement than the Magical Menagerie. To cleanse himself, he would set himself on fire.

He was so depressed he subjected himself to this. Of course, he was sat on three blankets, but how uncouth.

If he marinated in this couch for any longer, he'd be a perfect museum specimen one day. Fossilised because his arse got stuck into a couch that reeked of sour orange juice. If he sat any longer, he would become orange sesame Percy.

Instead of coping with the memory of his daughters' elegant conception, Percy was now contemplating how he was supposed to muster up the energy to pick up Lucy's robes from Madam Malkin's. He also didn't know if he should bring over a box of dairy-free, nut-free, gluten-free millionaire shortbread on his way back home for Lucy and Molly's playdate tomorrow with-with… that Dorothy! Personality of Hagrid's rock cakes! She once had an hour-long temper tantrum because he didn't cut her bloody crusts! And you bet that he didn't, the ungrateful little sod.

She didn't even about her severe lactose intolerance! _His toilet had to tell him that!_

But honestly, kids these bloody days! One sniff of celery, and they were just off zipped to St Mungo's… only to be treated with second-hand nasogastric tubes, irrigated by a bloke that still carried around a monocle!

Coeliac disease? Instead of being wiped out by You-Know-Who, brown bread was now enough to kill a bloke! What would the gravestone say exactly? _I'm dead because of bread? No wheat self-charmed flour could take the charm out of me?_

Percy ignored the fact that he would die if Daphne ate a peanut brickle and then breathed into his face.

His gravestone, he decided if that would ever happen, would be summarised as: _Aw, nuts!_

When Percy apparated back to the office, he got a real earful from his father. Percy wondered if a flobberworm crawled into his arse and died. He realised that maybe it did, if his father collapsed on the Orange Sesame Couch after his shift, which was marginally worse than the Couch of Prostatic Dismay.

By the time that Percy finally sat behind his desk, he sighed deeply, and didn't even pretend to be shocked at the forest massacre in front of him. There was enough parchment paper on his desk to be considered a serious fire hazard. And Percy was so sleep-deprived that he could practically see that orange glow from the forest fire right before his eyes.

Of course, _that_ might be leftover orange juice spew from the Orange Sesame Couch.

It was about that time of day that Percy was yawning into his quill so much that his penmanship looked almost as bad as Fred's. Percy couldn't even be insulted when Fred sent him owls, because he needed a telescope to read it. No, not a magnifying glass. A _telescope_. As in he'd have better luck plotting his star charts smack in the middle of the day.

"Percy?" Daphne's voice was soft, and she placed a cup of coffee on his desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Percy said, not even caring about the tiff in the hospital. "I'm just not entirely sure what day it is."

Daphne tapped at the calendar that was… right in front of him. When did he get _that?_ He vigorously rubbed his eyes.

He hadn't slept more than ten hours in the past week. His eyes were now redder than his hair, and he drank so much coffee that he gave himself a panic attack yesterday. His father had only been Minister of Magic for _two_ bloody weeks!

"It's also the day that you stormed out of St Mungo's and didn't come back the office for three hours," Daphne mumbled and then placed her hands on her shiny frock. "Do you have any idea what happened in those three hours? _TWO_ big Ministry departments decided to go on strike when your father told the whole of the wizarding community that they were sending out muggle products to the hospital for the shortage! They demanded about the efficacy and safety of those products versus our wizarding variants. They wanted the numbers to be released to the public. They want to ensure the community… that is still suffering from the impact of the second wizarding war… that there will be only the optimal level of care for their loved ones."

Daphne looked like she was unravelling. "They want a report! A _DETAILED_ report," she said. _"With percentages."_

Percy was now locking eyes with hers, like telling her: _well, I know I'm a berk but that was what I was about to DO today._

"I-I… owled Penelope," Daphne stuck her hands in her Ministry robes. "About coming over tonight. If you… want."

"I would rather not," Percy mumbled. There was no sneering in his tone, only exhaustion. He gestured towards the mountain of parchment papers that were a second away from collapsing. "I'm waiting for my coronary."

Daphne nodded her head. "I can thicken your blood and pump it with so much fat that it looks like an Eton Mess."

Percy was so delirious he almost found _that_ funny.

Daphne decided to stay in and help him with his paperwork. This would've been extremely helpful, if he wasn't doing paperwork with _Daphne Greengrass_. Thus far, all she had done was complain about Celestina Warbeck's new album.

Molly and Lucy did not like Celestina Warbeck. They liked to blare out horrifying death metal… at the age of _four_.

 _"OKAY,"_ Daphne sounded as annoyed as he would be if he wasn't so bloody exhausted. Last night, he was trying to teach his children the muggle concept of Pavlovian conditioning. Their response? They decided to keep him up all night, so that they could make Pavlova together. "Who's about to turn in their Tessomancy assignment?"

Percy rolled his eyes. She couldn't tell tea from ink! No wonder she still didn't know how he liked his coffee.

"That's not tea leaves. That's _Elvish_ ," Percy said, pushing his glasses back up. "Can't you read Elvish?"

He was so exhausted that he had to look down to make sure he was wearing _normal_ clothes that made him look smart and intelligent. Pants that he owned at fifteen that was now cutting off the circulation to his gluteal muscles? Check.

Plimsols that belonged in a mould museum, along with Fred and George? Double check. Or was _it triple check?_

 _"NO!"_ Daphne looked at him like he was nuts. _Ha_. He was allergic to nuts. Percy Weasley was a specimen of how great evolution had gotten. He got sunburned, but his freckles got tan. With how nauseous he was getting, his dragonpox costume would be ready for Hallowe'en. "Last time I checked, _I_ wasn't a bloody house-elf!"

"Contrary to popular belief, house-elves are _not_ the only kind of elves there is," Percy rubbed his sore blue eyes. He did not find that muggle Tolkien book he read to Lucy and Molly to be accurate in explaining Elvish. Where did _he_ get his doctorate from? The anti-S.P.E.W? "And it's a very good language skill that you can add in your resume. Because I should've fired you months ago when you decided my office was the perfect place for the Christmas office party!"

No matter what Daphne told him, Percy knew that that was not Skele-Gro spilled on his couch! Skele-Gro at a Christmas party! The only time Percy would bring Skele-Gro with him was when Bill and Charlie were at the pub.

Percy ended up doing most of the work with Daphne complaining about every hour. His productivity slowed down.

At around six, Hermes came around with an owl for him. He didn't expect it to be from Bill.

It was a photo from the Triwizard Tournament with him standing next to the champions with the rest of the judges. Did his hair look _that_ bad? Maybe he should convert this office into a beauty salon! Merlin! His complexion was nearly sickly. Last he checked, he didn't know that he was an aspiring Dementor! He looked like he sucked the life out of everything that was marginally happier than him. He flipped the photo over.

 _Last I recall, you MET Fleur, Mr You've Married a Woman that I've Never Met You,_ Bill wrote to him. _Now, as for you, I'VE never met your wife in addition to never being invited to a wedding. Is the cauldron pot calling the kettle black, Percy?_

Percy rolled his eyes, but he found himself smiling a little. He tucked the photo in his Ministry robes.

For the next few minutes, all he could think about was Bill owned a photo of him. Or his wife really, but still, he hadn't cut him out of the picture and set him on fire. He took that as a compliment. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment paper _I'm sorry,_ Percy wrote. _For not attending a wedding where everyone was ambushed by Death Eaters_.

At seven o'clock, Percy was considering quitting his job and spending his time scooping out flavours of Fortescue's for the rest of his life. Instead, he managed to drag him—and Daphne—out to St Mungo's for that report. A formal report would still have to go through the council! Percy hoped that there was someone in that very council that would be able to tell his father that he was a blubbering twat that had no business sticking recycled tubes up anyone's orifices.

 _I have a duty to the wizarding world_ , Percy told a reluctant Daphne. _I cannot let my father use second-hand medical equipment._

 _Harry Potter also had a duty to the wizarding world_ , Daphne said. _HE didn't have to work twenty-four-bloody-seven._

This may have said this because a bone-weary Percy was starting to deteriorate under pressure. His eyelids felt puffy and heavy because he couldn't recall the last time that he slept for more than two or three hours at a time. His meals were confined to cheese and onion pasties, and the occasional slice of chocolate fudge cake. This morning, when he was slumped over his kitchen counter, his daughter told him that he looked like he was unwell. _Does the Minister give you time off for that?_ Molly said, rolling her eyes. _You know… for dying?_ Percy felt like she was portraying her namesake very well.

He wondered what his mum would say if she knew that he was spending the evening in the hospital.

His ex-girlfriend was going to shove up recycled, possibly contaminated nasogastric tube down his nose whilst his lazy-arse secretary watched, _AND_ he was actually so exhausted that at the time that he genuinely believed that it was a good idea. Just so he could write a bloody three-page report about how moronic it was. It was just like throwing himself into a dragon fighting pit and deducing that those big things that breathe fire were _really_ bad for your health.

Unfortunately, Charlie hadn't gotten the flying memo. You'd think that touching a dragon once and getting burned would deter you from doing it again. And it certainly should've deterred you from making a career out of it!

"You might actually end up in the hospital after this, Percival," Daphne smoothed over one of her multiple velvety frocks that cost more than a year's rent in Percy's flat. It also looked better than his mum's wedding robes. "And that is particularly counterproductive since the hospital is understaffed and ill-equipped."

"Wonderful," Percy said stoically. "At least _then_ I'd be able to get some decent sleep!"

Three minutes passed, and she hadn't told him that he should've gotten an O in Twatomancy. Something was wrong.

"Daphne?" Percy asked, as he watched a black-haired girl playing with her Pygmy Puff. "Are you alright?"

" _I'm fine,"_ Daphne then inched to place her warm hands on his thin arms. " _BUT_ after this week is over, you are taking the next week—or _TEN_ — _OFF_. Because I am concerned that you might actually have a complete mental breakdown and start throwing _MY_ flower pots around the office. Which you know, _I_ work hard to maintain."

Percy shuddered. "I don't even know how you managed to grow _THAT_ deadly thing in a pot!" he yelled.

"—is _EVERYTHING_ about death and destruction to you?" Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. "Listen here, Captain Prat. _YOU_ may have twelve O.W.L's, but in two days, the most revolutionary decision you've made is that you've decided to have a dirty tube shoved up your nose—by your ex-girlfriend—just to see if it could possibly kill you! I…I thought you left your family because you're sick of them _torturing you!"_

"I did!" Percy flushed. He supposed that barely sleeping and hating himself made for a poor argument. "Um…"

"Really?" Daphne asked sceptically. "I should be sending your brothers live footage of _YOU_ doing their job for them!"

Percy cleared his throat. "It is my duty." _Your duty to what? Get whatever remains of your dignity stripped for a paycheck?_

"Your sacrifice will go down in history," Daphne sarcastically said. "If you don't ask for a week off, _I_ will personally write a monologue about how much of a big-headed arse you really are and read it in the Ministry coffee room."

Given the fact that he couldn't think of any reason to deny Daphne's request, he just agreed to her terms.

As they walked down the St Mungo's hallway, Percy was overwhelmed with thoughts. He thought of four-year-old Molly lying in bed in her too-big pyjamas, thinking about her unusual family dynamic. His daughters had a grandfather that was currently sending Percy to a flower-pot-induced psychosis. They had a grandmother that he'd hurt so many times in the past few years that he probably deserved her company as much as Daphne deserved a promotion. They had an uncle that had prettier hair than they did—Lucy would undoubtedly be seething with jealousy. They had one that liked to play with dragon-fire and had the level of coolness that you'd find in an almost-vegetarian Pixie Puff breakfast lolly. They… might be interested in Fred and George—a concept that frightened Percy. But he couldn't imagine that two four-year-old girls that had never seen _other_ twins before wouldn't be interested!

On a note related to his daughter's mischievous activities… Percy _still_ didn't know what two four-year-olds managed to do with his couch. He suspected that it was home to a family of polar bears in the Antarctic now.

At least he could say that his couch was _cool_ now… literally.

As for Ron and Ginny, Percy felt even more protective about his daughters meeting those two! Percy shuddered. Ron and Ginny had an intractable ability to get themselves in trouble, and Molly and Lucy had an intractable ability to make large, heaving things disappear without a wand or invisibility cloak! By the time that Percy would pick them up from their playdate, he was sure that Ron would be under investigation by the Auror department that he was training in and Molly and Lucy would've made all the proof that he was innocent disappear because they thought they could use _any_ wad of parchment paper to start drawing floating Puffskeins!

Worst of all, Percy was very much aware that that he was overbearing, overprotective and controlling. His children might not realise this because they didn't really have anything to compare it other than Mrs Rosenstein. And Mrs Rosenstein spent her time adhering to the _very_ rigid schedule that Percy had adopted from his _Parenting Without A Wife, Crup Or Copious Amounts of Firewhiskey Instructional Manual._ This included their eight-am intensive book reading down to their four-pm cooking class after their mandatory thirty-to-sixty-minute afternoon kip. They currently were apt at rolling blueberries in a layer of granola and vanilla yoghurt and freezing it as a snack to take down to Diagon Alley. His four-year-old girls even started studying for _their O.W.L's_ on their own accord.

However, being around other people would make them realise that he really did have a broomstick up his arse. And not one of those skinny Cleansweeps, but one of those big, fat Firebolts that he couldn't afford.

"Hey, Percy?" Daphne raised an eyebrow at him. They were just stood outside Penelope's office for about five minutes, and Percy was still lost in thoughts. "Are you thinking about how important it is to know Elvish?"

"I wish," Percy felt his heart do a few confusing zigs and zags. "Um… _err_ … no."

Daphne had her hand on the door but didn't open it. She was expecting him to say _something_.

"One… one of my daughters expressed the need to meet her grandparents," Percy explained softly. "I was thinking that—perhaps, I could… I could take them down to my mum on my lunch break tomorrow. To meet her."

"You do know that lunch break is for you to _eat?"_ Daphne tried to remind him. "Do… do you think it'll be okay?"

Percy slowly nodded his head. "But I… I worry that it's another layer of disappointment my mum has to deal with."

 _"Disappointment?"_ Daphne echoed. "Your mother is the nicest lady in the world. I don't think that she has it in her to be disappointed in _YOU_ when she's busy being disappointed about how her twin boys dropped out of school and have decided to spend the rest of their lives selling fizzy orange candy that could make your pee red for five weeks."

Percy's face hardened. "They make more money than me," he finally said. "With no qualifications whatsoever."

"I'm sure your mum married your father _for his money_ ," Daphne rolled her honey-coloured eyes. "By the way, the fact that you actually go down to the records room in your lunchbreak—when you are supposed to be _eating_ —and look up the cashflow charts of your brothers' shops is obsessive, creepy and a little depressing."

Percy was impressed. "She… she's worried about me," he admitted. "And I don't want her to worry even more."

Daphne stared at him like he'd just admitted to snogging Astoria. "Then take a _WEEK OFF_ and get some _SLEEP!"_

When they walked into Penelope's office, Percy felt a little woozy. He was unsure how Penelope ended up covering the floor with crumbled biscuits and didn't have the sense to clean it up before it attracted the whole Forbidden Forest. There was a new poster on the wall to cover the rot and decay. It was of a fat Kneazle in a nappy. _Haha_. Percy was rolling over the sticky, crumb-coated carpet, shaking with laughter at the nappy wearing Kneazle. Maybe the obstetrics team would appreciate it, given the high percentage of women that had incontinence problem after giving birth because some sadistic twat decided to stick a giant metal wand in their uterus during delivery. Delivery. As if he was trying to slice a piece of pizza with a knife rather than bring new life into this world!

Percy was escorted to the Couch of Prostatic Dismay, and then made to sit there. With his Danger Gauge-O-Meter given to an apprehensive Daphne, Percy allowed Penelope to pull out the recycled nasogastric tube.

"Maybe you _do_ need a nasogastric tube," Daphne decided, poking at his ribs. "No wonder you can't get any dates."

Penelope tried to gauge the length of the tube, using Percy's ear and nose. "What are you _DOING?"_ Percy said uncomfortably, when she gave him her half-drunken bottle of Honeyduke's full-fat white chocolate milkshake to drink before—to 'calm him down' she said. As if he needed calming down! "This is _not_ a Madam Malkin's robe fitting!"

"Pardon me," Penelope stared at him seriously. " _I_ didn't know that you were the one with the medical degree!"

She put him underneath some kind of numbing agent, and then lubricating the tip of that tube. Percy shuddered. Daphne held his Danger Gauge-O-Meter, which was already lighting up in all sorts of red colours. Mostly because he didn't really _need_ a nasogastric tube. And her couch made him feel a little bent with the way it was penetrating his arse.

"Do you really need to put that tube in _my nose?"_ Percy shuddered. "How about my ear? You've been measuring that!"

Daphne sighed deeply. "How did you end up in Gryffindor?" she asked. "You're terrified of everything."

"Not _everything_ ," Percy crossed his arms. He felt like he was just one second away from throwing all his clothes off, lighting it on fire and burning the hospital down to sterilise this room. Of course, he could not do any of those things because he only owned three pairs of pants that _fit him_. "Though I _am_ feeling a little claustrophobic…"

"Percy, I'm going to need you to do something very difficult," Penelope said. "Can you _stop talking?"_

Before Percy could say that he could stay quiet, Penelope advanced the tube down Percy's nose.

 _"Swallow,"_ Penelope said. Between the couch penetrating his arse and Penelope instructing him to swallow, Percy felt very, very bent. He was going to write a document about how he'd been assaulted by a massive—

Daphne whistled. "Should I leave you two alone?" she asked. "I'd hate to intrude on such an intimate moment."

She knew what the word _intrude_ meant? Percy was somewhat impressed, given she _intruded_ on him in the male's lavatory multiple times. The last time she walked in on him on the lavatory, he was trying to stitch up his old, beige shirt. His bony back was covered in awful tattoos—how did he get so many in _one night?—_ of dragons breathing fire.

 _I didn't know I wasn't the only thing that was smoking in the Ministry!_ Daphne had said, and Percy reminded her that this was the male's lavatory. Though in her defence, she'd probably been here more than she'd been to the women's lavatory. Given the fact that he could see her cheeky thong through her pastel-coloured skirts, he was sure that that the ten flying memos Daphne got per day were _not_ about whether or not they could schedule an appointment with him!

Now, Penelope had a tube down Percy's throat that he didn't need. She went on to using a syringe to suck his stomach juice, just to you know—make sure that the tube was in his stomach and not somewhere else. How comforting!

"Alright," Penelope relaxed her shoulders. Percy was starting to gag on the tube. "Oh, Percy."

Percy grabbed Penelope's arms, looking at her in the state of alarm and distress. He was afraid to speak unless he ripped open his vocal cords, and then he would be mute for the rest of his life. Which he couldn't do because that would be exactly the kind of thing that his father would want, and he wouldn't give him _the satisfaction!_

As Percy gagged and spluttered and felt a little light-headed, Penelope grabbed the end of the tube.

" _OH_ , this is not the same tube we use here in St Mungo's!" Penelope realised when she tried to tug it from Percy's nose. How cheery! "I didn't realise that the muggles use a completely different kind of tube!" she laughed.

Percy shot daggers at her, because he was not laughing. He couldn't laugh in case he bled into his stomach.

"Is this a good time to remind you that this was a terrible idea?" Daphne asked Percy, raising her eyebrow.

Percy's hands were shaking, and he would never be able to enjoy a full-fat Honeyduke's white chocolate milkshake ever again. He was sure that if he didn't eat his mum's cooking when he bought his daughters over, then she might actually kneel over and die. And it would all be _his_ fault for having a hole in his throat.

Daphne pushed Penelope aside, grabbed the tube and tried to rip it off like it was a bloody bandage!

 _Miss Greengrass!_ Percy thought to himself. He had heartburn—in fact, he had more heartburn now than he did eating a half-off paneer and potato curry at eleven in the evening. _Do you know this tube is in my THROAT?_

"What are you doing?" Penelope shrieked. "I think that tube is knotted!" _KNOTTED?_

Before Penelope could say anything, Daphne managed to rip off the tube, along with some hairs that Percy hadn't shaved off from his lip. He had no feeling in his nose and throat. And he most definitely had no interest in looking like You-Know-Who with his rotten, decayed nose thank you very much.

"Percy, not to alarm you but um… your nose is bleeding very profusely," Penelope said. "Do you feel _FAINT?"_

Percy did not answer that question because he felt very faint and was wheezing. His throat and chest were burning with acid, and like Lucy, he was going to die because he hadn't had a Pixie Puff breakfast lolly.

"I would like to use this cytobrush too," a delirious Percy picked up the brush from her table. "Where do I put this?"

Penelope looked amused. "I hardly doubt that you're in risk of getting cervical cancer, Percy."


	9. This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 5

_this is the end of this series, i.e. 'This Cytobrush Costs How Much?'. i can't even tell you what the next one is because i can't decide. i have 7-8 of these outlined and i pick from them. and this chapter took an unexpected turn at the end that means that whatever i had planned before isn't going to work out now... great!_

 _ **IF** i go with what i have in mind (which might not happen), the next segment **MIGHT** be 'Baby Blues... and Pinks!'. make of that what you will.  
_

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **Matthew W. Kirkland** : thank you so much! and yes, finally updated indeed... oops._

 _ **Phoenixx Rising:** Percy is going to always do what he knows best... write long reports and hope for the best! poor Percy._

 _ **IvyLovesWinchester:** thank you so much. i'm blushing! always happy to have people enjoy some Percy-centric fanfiction!_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Nine: This Cytobrush Costs How Much? Part 5

* * *

Do you know when you really need a break? When your sleepy, four-year-old daughter went up to you at four in the morning, peered into your extensive report and said, "Dad, that has a lot of spelling mistakes… including _your_ _name_."

Percy knew he was far gone when he spent three minutes searching his name in the dictionary with shaky hands.

He decided to take a shower, a Pepper-Up Potion, and then nurse three cups of coffee. Then he felt _sort of_ normal.

At six o'clock, Lucy was slurping her Pixie Puffs with low-fat milk and bananas. Molly chugged down her Cheeri-Owls with almond milk and expensive raspberries. Those organic raspberries were _never_ half-off… no matter how much Percy begged the vendor! Meanwhile, Percy had a mug of tea with cream and sugar, and a fat slice of toast with cheap margarine that had questionable ingredients like _moonstone residue_ and _2% cauldron salts_.

Speaking of margarine, Percy's yellow-coloured shirt was so thin that you could see his heart pounding in his chest. Just what he needed… his father being able to tell that his arteries were probably clogged and stiff with lard.

He considered having his toast plain, but he also hadn't eaten since his fatty tofu pasty at lunch.

Yes, only he, Percival Ignatius Weasley, could manage to find the one store in London that sold cheap tofu and cheese pasties that were made with _partially hydrogenated oils_ and _monosodium glutamate_.

He was one big chemical factory. He couldn't remember the last jam he'd bought that had actual fruit in it.

"You are going to meet your grandmother today," Percy said as he sipped his of hot, sugary tea.

 _Mum, these are my two daughters!_ Percy said. _I haven't slept in twenty-four hours. Yesterday, I nearly passed out from a ginormous nosebleed in front of my secretary and ex-girlfriend. And last week I was in the hospital for FIVE stitches!_

Molly looked surprised to hear this. "Really?" she sounded a mixture of confused and semi-excited.

Lucy was confused. "We have a grandmother?" she asked. "Is she's better than a mum because she's _GRAND?"_

Percy cleared his throat, looking at his daughters. "I expect that you two will be on your best behaviour," he said sternly. "When I do your hair before I leave, I expect that it will remain in the same condition through the whole day. I do _not_ expect you two to look like something that the Kneazle spat out of its belly by the time I take you to meet her. When I make you wear your robes, I expect that they will _remain_ in one colour once I return to the flat. I do _not_ expect it to be in varying shades of the bloody rainbow—I'm not taking you to the Gay Parade. When you go to your grandmother's house, I expect that there will be no screaming, tongue-biting, temper tantrums, holding one's face until blue, underpants' strikes or gnome abuse. You will eat whatever is put in front of you. Do I make myself clear?"

Lucy stared at her bowl. "Okay," she said. Was he dead from yesterday's nosebleed? Did she just say _okay?_ Did she accept this without asking him if he was going to eat a chicken if his mum put it in front of him? "Um… _thank you."_

Percy's jaw nearly dropped. Did she just say _thank you_ to him? He felt his heart swoon.

 _"THANK YOU?_ Did _MY_ Goosy Lucy say _thank you?"_ an excited Percy got up from his seat to tickle Lucy in her chair. She giggled, as she sunk into her seat. "Someone's done all their homework about gratitude!"

Lucy beamed at him. "All _SIX_ pages!" yes, he gave his four-year-olds homework every night. _"I LOVE YOU!"_

Percy felt a little light-headed. He didn't know if it was because of the sleep deprivation, or if it was because the last time Lucy told him she loved him was when he begrudgingly agreed to let her eat ice-cream for breakfast. Come to think of it, yesterday, he'd managed to get both his girls into bed by eight without so much as an _I don't wanna!_

"I love you too, Lucille," Percy said warmly, and then placed her back down. "And you, Molly? I love you too!"

When he tried to affectionately run her hand through her messy red hair, Molly smacked him with her spoon.

"Father, that is _disgusting!"_ Molly shrieked. "You have margarine on your hands for Merlin's sake!"

Well, that margarine would probably help lather down that dead, red animal on her head!

Percy nervously peered at his daughters as they continued spooning cereal and fruit. He was worried that they might actually decide they hated him after they met Molly. And what would his mum say about how he raised them?

He bought his daughters expensive clothes. They sometimes had temper tantrums about the _colours_ of said dress robes.

His mum used to buy him rags that had no discernible colour to wear. Meanwhile, instead of buying _himself_ something considering the tens and tens of dress robes that Molly and Lucy had to choose between them, he chose to put another overpriced silky concoction in their closet. Obviously, he also could _not_ continue squeezing himself into pants that fit him when he was an extremely sickly nine and a half stones, but he couldn't help himself. In his fifth year, Percy was so focused on his O.W.L's that year that it was a miracle that he hadn't passed out on the stairs!

 _Whoa, Perce_ , Fred told him when he saw him post Potions exam. _Where's the REST of you? Still taking the exam?_

 _You can't go back to the Burrow, looking like that!_ George agreed. _Mum will think WE gave you something._

And every day, his old pants were easier to button. It made Percy feel a little sick. Because he was neglecting himself _again_. He was sure without Daphne there, he probably would've already been shipped away for flower-pot-psychosis.

After they were done with breakfast, Percy washed the dishes and brewed a fresh pot of tea for Mrs Rosenstein to drink. Aware that he would be _LATE_ to his job—which was unheard of, he sat down to do his daughters' hair.

Eying an issue _Witch Weekly_ magazine, he went to work. After managing to turn Molly's hair from an Unruly Thing down to sleek, shiny red strands, he made a waterfall braid. This took him _five_ attempts to perfect. After he was satisfied with the results, he then secured it with white ribbons to go with her favourite white, glittery plimsols. He used black ribbons for Lucy… to go with her floral black Mary Janes. This went by with only one temper tantrum.

 _I don't LIKE white ribbons!_ Lucy said, and cried for about ten minutes. _I'm SO SAD I'm going to DIE!_

Lucy also wanted to wear a pair of black dress robes, and Percy shuddered to think that his daughter was _already_ going through a rebellious phase! He was, thus forced, for the sake of symmetry to pick out white dress robes for Molly.

When his daughters were up and ready, Percy decided to run his hand through his Unruly Thing.

"Ahem," Mrs Rosenstein cleared her throat. She was sat on an armchair that was now dubbed as The Place Whereby Mrs Rosenstein's Arse Rests from Seven to Five. "Percival, they look beautiful… but this is _ridiculous_."

 _"Ridiculous?"_ Percy reiterated deliriously. "There's a boggart in the flat? How did it get in here?"

" _YOU_ need to take a _BREAK!_ " Mrs Rosenstein yelled. Why was everyone telling him to take a break? He was fine! Percy just had to handle this boggart business before he went off to the Ministry. Just wonderful. He had to face his dead wife before he went off to face his family—just peachy. "Honestly, I'd hate to see what you'd do at their wedding! Even my daughter doesn't know how to do what you just did…and she'd been working at Primpernelle's for a decade! You really shouldn't spoil them this much, Percival. They're getting _USED_ to this already!"

How could Percy not spoil them? He could barely go anywhere without thinking of how much they'd like _this_ or _that_.

Mrs Rosenstein put down her tea cup. " _Organic raspberries for Molly?"_ fine. That was a bit much now that he thought about it… especially when the same punnet would buy him quills for a month. "You're paying for pricey fruit that your daughter asks for, but you let yourself walk around looking like something that's been upchucked by a dragon!"

"Pardon me, Mrs Rosenstein but I do not look like something upchucked by a dragon!" Percy said, flushing brightly.

"You look _SICK_ ," she said. "Honestly, I don't know how your father is letting you turn into work! You've only been there for two weeks and you're starting to look like you'd just been chucked out of Azkaban! Godric knows what that man is doing, but… but I'm shocked! Overworking you like an owl in a postal service… _AND_ he's your father too!"

"Mrs Rosenstein, I am _fine_ ," Percy tried to smooth off white glitter from his shirt. "I look fine."

 _"Fine?"_ Mrs Rosenstein repeated. "My husband looks better than you do! And he's dead."

Alright. Maybe deciding to wear a pair of black overalls over a yellow shirt was not the best way of trying to conceal the fact that said yellow shirt was almost see-through. And _just_ because you tried to colour-coordinate by wearing yellow plimsolls—which were not really yellow but were white once upon ago—did not mean that you looked good.

Mrs Rosenstein opened her gigantic purse, and then pulled out a pair of shiny, purple Ministry robes.

"Here," she tossed them at Percy, who barely managed to catch them. The material was so silky and fine that Percy's automatic response was try not to soil it with his pitiful, freckled hands. "At least wear _THIS_ to your meeting today! Honestly, if you dare to think about… about going out with those ratty things you usually wear then I'd…!"

Percy picked them up. "Mrs Rosenstein, I…" he was shocked by the quality. "I…I can't take these!"

He was stood there, rubicund. He was embarrassed that he took so little care of himself that his daughters' babysitter decided that she should buy him new Ministry robes, since his old ones looked like they'd been a werewolf's chew toy.

"You _BETTER_ put those robes on, Percival Ignatius Weasley!" she shook her fist in the air as a warning.

"Um… uh…" Percy stared at her in disbelief, clutching the shiny, satin material between his fingers. "Thank you!"

Yes, _thank you!_ Lucy taught him that word from her six pages of gratitude homework that she did yesterday.

When he got to the Ministry, Percy had to fight not to be thrown out by the security. He was told that he didn't need anyone to do the _plumbing_ … honestly! Percy spent an hour in interrogation because the bloody bloke 'questioning him' refused to believe that Percy was the same person on his ID—since he took that photo with his glasses off!

Just as a moody Percy was about to enter the door to his office, he was smacked backwards by flying memos.

 _"What…?"_ Percy tried to ignore the fact that he'd managed to pour his—fortunately cold—vegetable soup all over his clothes and new robes. He felt what little vigour he had left in his body drain. "What is it _NOW?"_

Apparently, after reading a few memos when his arse still planted on the ground, he discovered that there was a mandatory meeting that took place _an hour ago_ about the final decision regarding the hospital equipment. And the final verdict was that they were currently about to start distributing this product about two days from now. This, of course, lead to a great sudden need for employees in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, and now, he was _interviewing_ people?

Rubbing his temples, Percy honestly was close to sobbing on the floor. This was not fair. It wasn't it wasn't it wasn't.

" _WHAT_ are you covered in?" Daphne asked. She was holding her purse, and just about to enter her office. An hour earlier than usual. "And do we really have this much paper in the Ministry? You should write a decree about paper usage. Because you are a Whomping Willow hugging vegetarian, I'd expect you to have a strong opinion."

"You still use _papers_ to write decrees," he replied. "And no idiot is stupid enough to hug a Whomping Willow!"

Daphne leaned down to his frame. "Godric, what are you _wearing?"_ she stared at his clothes. "You look like you're about to audition for a part in the Beedle the Bard play, as that kid that hasn't seen sunlight in a decade!"

She helped him up, and he was practically shaking in disbelief in Daphne's arms.

"Daphne, I want to… I want…!" Percy's voice was cracking under pressure. "I want to _quit_ ," he whispered.

Daphne laughed, not realising that he was serious. "Sure," she said. "And _I_ want Astoria to get married to that ferret."

She stopped laughing when she noticed tears bubbling into his eyes, threatening to escape. Percy's hands were shaking so badly that he wasn't sure if he could use a siphoning spell for the soup on his new robes. He couldn't believe that he couldn't keep a pair of robes clean for a whole thirty minutes. He was absolutely bloody _pathetic_.

"Look," Daphne flicked off a flying memo from his robes. "I'll get your father to consider your proposal."

Here he was! Percival Ignatius Weasley! He worked his arse off to get 12 O.W.L's, spent a whole year making himself ill with worry—only to be told that people _might_ consider the proposal that he stayed up all night to write. His own secretary had to keep him from having a mental breakdown. _THIS_ was exactly what he wanted to do with his life!

"Go take a deep breath," Daphne said. "And a nap in your office. And then tell your father that you want a week off."

"Okay," Percy replied weakly, feeling his shoulders slump. He just felt so many bad things sitting in his stomach. People had been telling him that he looked ill to the point where he genuinely _felt_ ill too.

Daphne rummaged through his rucksack and pull out his report. "Office… _SLEEP_ … _NOW_."

When Percy managed to lumber himself inside his own office, he siphoned off the soup from his robes. He took them off, and then folded them neatly on his very busy-looking desk. He curled up on the couch on the side of his room and tried to go to sleep. Just as he relaxed into his uncomfortable couch, he heard, "Are you _SLEEPING?"_

 _No, he was NOT sleeping!_ Percy wanted to yell back. _He wasn't allowed to sleep until he paid for the fact that he killed his wife!_

Percy half-opened his eyes, seeing his father looming over him. "I am not asleep," Percy said stiffly.

"What is _this?"_ Arthur said, waving his report in front of his eyes. Percy yawned.

"A report. I'm sure you've seen some of them, since people have probably been writing them in the stone ages. There was bound to a bloke like me at that time as well—with a spear up his arse. Considering _we_ haven't gone out of fashion completely," Percy told his father, and Arthur looked affronted but then relaxed. "Then you know what _this_ is! I'm not sure what you need me for, Mr Minister… since you can _READ_ what it says!" he said bitterly.

Arthur kept his lips pursed tightly. "It's a good report," he said, and Percy felt himself feeling… overwhelmed.

What? Did he just hear his father say that it was a _good report?_ Did his father know that his four-year-old daughter corrected all his big spelling mistakes when he was busy drinking three cups of coffee? Did his father know that he was close to throwing Daphne's deadly flower pots in his office—in the nude because these overalls were so tight, and this shirt was giving him eczema? He was also considering burning down Arthur's shed, so he could suffer too?

"Thank you," Percy said, feeling his throat ache. Did his father just _praise_ him? He couldn't recall the last time that…

"You've done very well," Arthur said, and cleared his throat. "I didn't expect you to be this… efficient."

"Thank you," Percy wasn't sure how efficient he was when he could barely string out a coherent sentence.

"You're welcome," Arthur said. Percy just noticed that his ropes were new too—so were his clothes. He'd finally been able to buy new clothes now that he was the Minister for Magic. He hoped he bought mum something wonderful. She deserved that much.

Percy let his father's approval sink into his bones. He couldn't believe that Arthur thought something he did was _good_.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Well…I need you to rewrite this as an official document," he said, when Percy was still basking in that feeling. He felt so _good_. "And to inform St Mungo's of this decision since. After that, there's a meeting downstairs at noon that I need you to attend since I would not be able to. I'm seeing Harry and Ron for lunch and I'm not sure how long we'll be at. They want to discuss something important related to the Auror Department."

 _Harry bloody Potter and his suggestions at lunch_ , Percy repeated to himself bitterly. He couldn't remember the last time that he sat down and had lunch with a family member that didn't wish for his imminent demise!

Forgoing the fact that he was so exhausted that he felt sick, Percy nodded his head. "Of course, I will… Mr Minister."

"Good," Arthur said. Percy was confused at why his father treated him… decently. He couldn't help but feel like he was being manipulated. " _I_ need these documents urgently. Try to keep your eyes open long enough to finish them."

 _What are you doing?_ Percy was appalled at himself. _He says you've done a good job, and you roll over the floor like a crup?_

Percy felt like he was back to being about fifteen—barely functioning, trying to get top notch grades for his father to notice what he was doing. His mum praised him enough for the both of them really, but he'd made himself sick because he wanted it to hear it from someone that _wasn't_ his mum for once. He recalled that Fred and George thought it hilarious to swipe his Transfiguration notes for notes on how to get 'that stick out of his arse' just _an hour_ before his O.W.L. An anxious, tired Percy honestly started sobbing in the middle of the common room. When he got a headache from crying, he treated himself to a wonderful _panic attack!_ He was terrified that he'd fail because he had a headache.

In fact—by the time he came home, Percy had managed to give himself panic attacks in the train for a week.

He was so overwrought with anxiety at the time that he woke up every day at four in the morning just to see if Errol had his O.W.L results. At some point, he genuinely started dreaming about strangling that batty bird if he didn't bring them. And he practically tore Errol's talons off when he took the letter from him. It was two in the afternoon when he'd gotten his O.W.L results. When Percy read his results, he realised how empty he felt. Because Bill happened to remind him that he'd gotten the same—but apparently, he only studied the night before his exams. So, then, it wasn't enough to have 12 O.W.L's but he had to do it whilst barely looking at the material.

Who was he kidding? He had the personality of a sponge. _Nobody_ ate a sponge cake without jam, chocolate or cream.

 _Where was your father_ _then?_ Percy thought back to the days where he sulked in his room for hours and hadn't come down until someone told him that it was time to eat. If his daughters were worrying themselves into a panic on a daily basis over their grades, then _he'd_ like to think he would've bothered to say something to them.

Instead of going back to sleep and telling his father to sod off, he walked to his desk and called Daphne over for coffee.

When Daphne walked into the room with two cups of coffee—sweet and sweeter, she asked, "What happened?"

Percy looked down at his reports. "Nothing," he said stiffly. He didn't even _feel_ tired anymore. "I have work to do."

Daphne put down the cups, her amber eyes shining. Then she reached over to his face and rubbed a tear he hadn't even notice falling form his face. _"Nothing?"_ she repeated incredulously. And he shuddered under her touch.

"I'm _fine,"_ Percy was sick of saying that he was perfectly. "And don't _you_ have work to do too?"

She looked like she was assessing her options. Like she was facing a manticore instead of her superior.

"Yes," Daphne decided to say. "The Ministry Ball is next week, and I know that your family is going to be there. I'm sure _you_ don't want to take a Slytherin as a date to meet your family. However, given the fact that I'm the only person besides hopefully your mum that _knows_ you have children and that you could leave spontaneously at any time… well, I think that might make me a suitable option to take as a very platonic date and… _um_ —"

Percy didn't look up from his notes. "Miss Greengrass, you have accompanied me as my platonic date for the last year to events as pathetic as these," he said. "I'm not sure what you think has changed in the past year that…"

"Nothing," Daphne said a little too hurriedly. "I just assumed that…maybe you'd want to take Penelope?"

 _"Penny?"_ Percy looked shocked. "She couldn't keep her mouth shut even if I sewed it together! I'd imagine when I take her down as my date, she'd happen to accidentally tell everyone my social security number, my daughters' social security numbers and how I was like in bed a decade ago when I wasn't sure about…" he went red. "Well… um…"

Daphne cleared her throat. "Well, um… I have work, Mr Weasley!" she said perkily. "Thank you for your time."

Percy gawked at her as she left. _"Mr Weasley?"_ he repeated. "Godric, her plant fumes are going to kill both of us."

Popping out after the meeting, Percy was feeling a mixture of nausea and excitement when he took Lucy and Molly to the house where he grew up. Just staring at the Burrow made him feel warm and nostalgic inside—all the colours! The warmth! The rooms that were painted about every few years because it was so cheap it peeled off by the second year.

He could still remember how his room looked like when he'd left it. Its warm caramel walls. The beds that gave Ron scoliosis—he'd had to wear a giant brace for a year. The pillows that made Percy sneeze every three seconds. The quills and diaries and papers that he'd left at home. The smell of the fire crackling and the scent of wood. The holes in the wall where Percy had found Scabbers, and then nursed him back to health with his mum's autumn lentil soup…

And Fred and George's toxic laboratory of filth. Disgusting. Percy bet that there was less shit in a giant's colon!

Before he came here, he washed his face and drank enough rejuvenating potion to bring a ghost back to life.

Shame and guilt followed him here—uninvited. Percy remembered how he'd slammed the door in his mum's face when she came to his flat holding a pastry pot because she was worried about him. When he recalled how shocked she was seeing him in the office, Percy felt sad. How could he answer to this now? _I still haven't slept? I have put on some of Daphne's make-up when she went down for a cinnamon roll? I am actually much paler than Daphne's pure white toner?_

"My parents—your grandparents—and I had a stupid row ages ago," Percy told Molly and Lucy, as he admired the house from afar, holding his daughters' warm hands. "And we hadn't been talking much since. _I've_ … done some awful things that I've deeply regretted. And they've…said some things I'm sure they're not proud of either. Sometimes, little rows about who ate the last Pixie Puff breakfast lolly and how it's not fair that someone always wins at Exploding Snap is how it starts. And then sometimes, it gets to something like _this_."

"I know Molly didn't eat the last Pixie Puff breakfast lolly," Lucy finally said. "Maybe I did, and I didn't know."

Molly stiffened a little. "Thank you," she said. "And it's not your fault that you're better at me in Exploding Snap."

Actually, um… Lucy _definitely_ cheated, but he was not bringing _that_ Kneazle out of the box now that those two weren't bickering at each other. Did you know how rare it was that those two weren't at each other's throats? Merlin, you'd think they spent nine months arguing in their mum's womb about who's amniotic fluid was prettier!

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat, and then walked to the door. He was less scared seeing Azkaban the first time.

"Would your mum yell at you?" Molly perked at the thought. His daughters were sadistic. "I… I'm just wondering."

"Probably," Percy saw Molly and Lucy beam at each other. "But I deserve it for not talking to her for ages."

When Percy knocked on the door, Lucy and Molly practically hid behind him and were clinging onto his legs. Percy stiffened because these overalls were so tight that he bet that they could see where his femoral vein ended.

"She's not going to yell at _you_ ," Percy tried to comfort them. "She's a great woman."

"Then why didn't you talk to her for ages?" Molly asked, and Percy… wished he could answer that.

Percy shook his head. "Maybe _you_ should be the next Minister for Magic," he grumbled to himself. "Well, um—"

Before he could answer, his mum opened the door. Percy felt his heart race a little. She was stood there in a black, polka dotted frock that looked like it would've been a hit in _Witch Weekly_ magazine about fifty years ago. She looked exhausted and was a mess—just like he remembered his mum to be like. Percy breathed out a sigh of relief. He'd been terrified that she'd changed. Even that day in his office, he never had a real look at his mum.

"Percy?" she looked surprised, and then her face changed into horror. "What are you _WEARING?"_

"Mum," Percy said, and then went red. "Mum, I… I came to tell you about—"

"Really, Percival!" he could practically feel his daughters shaking behind him. "Do you go to the Ministry dressed like _this?_ Because I'm surprised nobody's mistaken you for someone else's overgrown house-elf!"

"Mum, there are _tall_ elves," Percy said calmly. "House elves are not the only kind of elves that exist."

His mum shook her head and sighed deeply. "I'm having a good talk with your father about this," she was currently fuming. "Do you know how _pitiful_ this fight really is? Honestly, if _he's_ alright with his son walking around his building looking like a dejected orphan just about to beg for bread, then I'm not he should've taken that job!"

Percy was just praising Primpernelle's for all those beautifying potions that he used to look human and not half-dead. He couldn't imagine how impressed his mum would be if she knew that he hadn't had a good night's sleep in _ages_.

"Is he treating you well?" Molly asked. "Is he… is he giving you long enough lunch breaks? You look thinner."

Percy could put on a stone and his mum would still tell him he looked thinner.

Molly and Lucy poked their heads out from behind his legs, staring at their grandmother with confused eyes.

"He's my father!" Percy replied. "Of course, he's treating me well," he wished that was actually the case.

"What is…?" his mum looked down at his daughters. Percy was sure that the world stopped a little. Her shiny chocolate-brown eyes just widened, and he was afraid he actually gave his mum a heart attack.

"Mum, it's alright!" Percy was distressed. She was whiter than Daphne's toner. "Mum, you _have_ to breathe to live."

Molly and Lucy resigned to hiding behind his trousers again. He supposed they weren't going to be in Gryffindor.

"Percy, you _didn't_ ," Molly sounded _betrayed_. Her lips were trembling. She looked like she was about to cry. "They're not… they're _not_ yours, are they? Well, if they were, then you would've _TOLD ME_ about them, wouldn't you?"

Percy bit down his lower lip. "Of course, they're mine," he said softly, more for their benefit than his mum's. He didn't want his children thinking that he was ashamed to bring them over to his mum's house now, did he?

Molly looked like she'd just been told that he died. "Percy, there was a _war_ ," she was stunned.

"Mum, I'm sorry," Percy honestly said. "How about I get you in and I make you a nice cup of tea…?" he tried to inch closer to her and hug her. But to his surprise, she moved backwards from him. As if he was an intruder.

"No, Percival," Molly stared at him with a sternness that were typically reserved for others. "No."

Percy felt like he'd been stabbed with a knife. "Mother," his voice was sterner. "I… I can explain." He couldn't.

"Really?" Molly was downtrodden. _"Why didn't you TELL ME?"_ she yelled. "I just… I don't understand!"

Percy cleared his throat. "Go inside you two," he told his daughters, who immediately bolted inside. They would ruin their dress robes and hair in seconds now. He knew that regardless of what happened between them, there was no way that his mum would turn away her own grandchildren. "Mother… I wish I'd done things differently."

"Done things differently? Is _THAT_ your explanation?" Molly waved her hands wildly. "Percy… I'm…I'm shocked!"

Percy cleared his throat. What could he say? _Well, mum, I didn't want to come by because I wasn't sure how you were going to react with me suddenly cropping up with a pregnant girlfriend a few weeks after I left? How about a bunch of newborn babies?_

She looked heartbroken. "I'm disappointed!" she said, shattering whatever was left of him. Disappointed in him!

"I know…" Percy said. "I'm disappointed in myself too," he admitted. Here he was, stood outside the Burrow. His mother, one of the most nurturing people in the world, hadn't even thought to invite him _in_.

Molly rubbed the tears running down her cheeks. "I had to read _THE PAPERS_ to know that you got married, Percival!"

She took a deep breath. "What am I supposed to say?" she asked him. "Am I supposed to just forget about…?"

Percy couldn't believe he broke his mum's heart. He had an urge to owl Daphne now, to tell her that she really was disappointed in him. Even the twins didn't disappoint her like _this_. He thought of Audrey's sad, stitchy body after she gave birth to two girls that she wanted nothing to do with. She was _eighteen_ , and her mum had to watch her die in front of her very eyes. _You killed her_ , the guilt was swallowing him. _You killed her you killed her you killed her._

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Molly scolded him. "Or is this the end of this conversation?"

"I made a lot of mistakes," Percy whispered. "And I would like to rectify them. If… if you'd give me the chance."

Molly stared at him with hard chocolate-brown eyes. "No," she said, and her disappointment rung more in his ears than his father's approval. He just didn't know it would until then. "Please leave."

He felt his heart stop. Because his mum had _never_ told him to leave her house. He felt like the lowest of the low. Percy was sure that there were Azkaban prisoners that were sent home that were embraced with open arms, and he was lower than even they were. But he was lucky, wasn't he? A chance to work with the Minister of Magic!

"I suppose you can pick up your…" Molly looked away from him. "I-I suppose you can pick them up later."

"Mum," Percy cried out, sounding closer to a four-year-old himself than a grown man. "Mum, _please_."

She slammed the door in his face. _What have you done?_ Percy told himself. _What have you DONE?_

Before he left, Percy saw his daughters poking out of the window. They looked confused, as if they didn't understand why he wasn't there with them. He sighed deeply, as he waved to them. Molly and Lucy waved back at him. He gestured for them to go see their grandmother, but their eyes were glued on his face.

 _You haven't disappointed them yet,_ Percy told himself, watching them sunny-eyed and happy. _Shocking, isn't it?_

He waited until they would leave. They must've stayed there for a while, staring at him. They were drawing little shapes by the window. He inched closer to them and stared at the drawings. Them, the three redheads that lived in an awful flat in the middle of London. A pauper and his two princesses. They stared at him with expectant eyes—intense, shining and hopeful. He smiled back at them. This was ridiculous. He'd been barred from seeing his own children at his own childhood home. To boot, Percy was terrified of his daughters finding out how truly anal-retentive, and obsessive he was. How _flawed_ he was compared to his perfect family and their wonderful home.

Percy gestured for them to walk away, but they just kept on laughing at him like he was joking. After a few minutes of him pointing to his watch— _I have to go_ , he said ten times already, their smiles disappeared from their faces.

Tentatively, Molly and Lucy walked away from him, and right into the house he grew up in.


	10. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 1

_happy holidays. i gift you with a cliffhanger. but... i really love that you guys have such vocal ideas about your opinion of Percy leaving his kids back at Molly's. i did explain in this chapter why he did that, but just in case, i already replied to the comments!_

 _for those wondering why this is called 'baby pinks and blues'... well... i was considering just disclosing the whole Percy / Audrey relationship soon in flashback series. probably as Percy telling the story to a member of his family because technically i have 9/10 fully written flashback chapters. it's a shame not to post them! so Baby Blues and Pinks might end up being a 12-14 part episode series. probably the longest subplot in this whole fanfiction! hopefully..._

 _i have so many subplots that might have to be re-written to fit in with where i'm taking this story (can you guess that Molly was not supposed to know about Percy's children until **way** later? but i can't make up a good excuse to validate why Percy's keeping them from his mum...). this fanfiction might be a long one! _

_**comment replies** , for those that are wondering about the Percy / Molly interaction last chapter. you should probably read some of them (just a suggestion as i typically scroll past when i don't see my name in comment replies, etc): _

_**Matthew W. Kirkland** : it isn't a Percy fanfic of mine without me torturing the poor guy._

 _ **finkles89** : i did happily write down an explanation. i think Percy's conflicted with himself and his parenting. i think he doubted himself after Daphne called him out on trying to keep his daughters 'sheltered' and he didn't just want to bring them back to his flat because he'd just be making it more obvious. i think he doesn't know how to strike a balance and is constantly afraid that his children would see him the way his family currently sees him. _

_**IvyLovesWinchester:** to be honest, i can't fault her. she had the door slammed into her face. he has ignored her concerns. she had to read about his marriage in the papers! it makes sense for why Percy's not been forthcoming with his father / rest of his family but he legitimately did not have an excuse for why he kept his mum secluded from his life for 4 years, especially when he had children and hasn't told her. i do think that she's supportive, especially to him compared to others, i.e. comparing the amount of Howlers / amount of times she's yelled at Ginny / Ron / Fred / George in comparison. i do think Percy wants validation from his father and ignores the validation that he gets from his mother, even though she probably validates him more than the rest of her children combined!_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : i totally get what you mean! i already mentioned it to finkles89, but i think that Percy's biggest thing is that he is so insecure about his own parenting because he's a single parent / young / knows that he has a lot of issues in his head. i think Daphne did a number in his head when she mentioned that he has secluded his children and he'd be proving her point if he just takes them back to his flat. but i can't really blame her. she had been shunned by Percy during the row (i.e. he'd slammed the door in her face, didn't reply to her, etc even though she was concerned), and then had to find out all this marriage stuff about him through the papers! and now, this on top of that? and in a span of a few weeks! but i totally get your point as well._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Ten: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 1

* * *

 _"NO!"_ Daphne was standing in front of Percy's desk, whilst painting her nails into a colour that reminded him of that time that Ron was sick after he'd eaten too much candy floss. Did anyone find it funny that they called it candy floss? As if the dental healer would be happy to hear that Ron was _flossing_ with pure sugar. "You're lying."

Percy shook his head, keeping his face still as ever. "Do you think I would bother transmitting unsound information?"

They were currently an intelligent conversation. This was the first one they'd had since he'd hired Daphne a year ago. That had been arguably the biggest mistake of his life, besides slamming the door in his mum's face and denying the existence of Mould and Port. Ever since, his life had been candied with farting unicorn and overpriced dolls that had glittery knickers—oh, and he supposed that his daughters' toys weren't dressed appropriately for work either!

Daphne looked to be in a state of disbelief. "That's criminal," she said, staring at her nails. Percy wondered if Lucy could look at that regurgitated pink vomit without wanting to reach for one of her almost-vegetarian Pixie Puff breakfast lollies.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Criminal?" he reiterated. "Do you know anything about the laws in this country?"

"You can't take a piss without knickers on in a bush outside of St Mungo's," Daphne replied triumphantly.

Percy just gawked at her because he had this strong urge to _Confrgino_ the whole Ministry.

"You _DO_ know that St Mungo's have these things that they had developed that people know as _the lavatory?_ " Percy went off. "Why in Merlin's name were you doing urinating in a bush? Trying to attract werewolves and cure the lycanthropy curse by transmitting a deadly strain of _Chlamydia?"_ he did not feel bad about this, considering that he knew for a fact that Daphne's Forbidden Forest had more unknown creatures than the actual Forbidden Forest.

At least she should put a _TRESPASSERS BEWARE_ sign! You should see _what_ she let inside that thing.

"Ha _HA_ ," Daphne rolled her shiny blue eyes, which twinkled to the colours of the sea. Percy's were those boring cold ones that looked like they were closer to a boring grey than blue. They weren't even the interesting blue-grey that looked like you had a mysterious soul. _No_ , they were the grey of a bone stone that was covered in blue candy floss that congealed about ten centuries ago. "At least _I_ can attract someone that isn't stoned, blind, dead… or a muggle."

"Blind people have feelings too," Percy replied, his eyes still on the report that he'd been trying to read for two hours.

" _YOU_ have feelings?" Daphne replied, raising an eyebrow. "Did you know your glasses are thicker than my arse?"

Percy started laughing… _genuinely_ laughing. It caught Daphne off guard to the point she'd pulled out her wand.

 _"Thicker than my arse!"_ Percy sounded like he'd spend his afternoon sucking up helium from Diagon Alleys' celebrating-the-fact-we're-not-dead balloons. "I've slept with _TEDDY BEARS_ that had thicker arses than you!"

She went red, and she playfully punched his shoulder. Then she blushed because of her non-teddy-bear-like arse.

Daphne just sighed. " _I_ just really can't believe that it's legal in this country for me to wear nylon beyond the age of thirty-five," she looked honestly disturbed by this notion. "Are you sure they don't get sent to Azkaban? Because I wouldn't wear nylon if a big fat Dementor tried to suck my soul in with a kiss."

Percy was sure that _she'd_ be doing the soul-sucking if she'd ever been sentenced to be given The Kiss.

He wouldn't be surprised if she'd managed to shag a Dementor and then owl Astoria at one in the morning, just to tell her about how dark, mysterious and brooding her new beau was. Come to think of it, she'd probably also be sat there wondering why he didn't bother getting her any chocolates on the first date!

"Yes, I'm sure," Percy replied indifferently. "I believe your first clue should've been the fact that the Ministry of Magic robes are made from nylon… and most Ministry officials here are closer to coffins than promotions."

Daphne shuddered. "You think _THIS_ is nylon?" she grabbed a fistful of her official Ministry robes. "You think I'd let that skinny little midget down in the clothing department make my robes from-from… _NYLON?"_

She moved to feel his forehead, which of course was _normal,_ because he was not mental. She, however, definitely was.

"You need a new glasses' prescription," Daphne stated. " _AND_ a copy of the 1984 _Witch Weekly_ IV _STAT_."

Percy doubted he need a copy of a gaudy magazine as an IV. He'd rather be infusing himself with copies of the Quibbler because at least that magazine didn't tell him that it should be illegal for blokes to have pointy elbows.

He had a real-life crisis in his fifth year. Pomfrey told him that he could _not_ inject fat only in his elbows. Percy didn't entirely believe that, considering he was 100% sure that Pansy Parkinson's mum's arse wasn't real. He'd never seen one like it. Percy stuck in a suggestion in the Ministry box to be able to call that thing a being of its own.

"Did you really leave your daughters alone with your mum after you've had a falling out?" Daphne asked.

"Well…" Percy just stared at Daphne. "I assumed that my mother would _not_ murder my children?"

"I'm not saying that your mum's going to murder them but…" Daphne continued to prod at something that was not her concern. Percy assumed that he'd already established that yes, he'd left his daughters in his childhood home with his non-psychotic mum. What was her point? Yes. "I mean…why wouldn't you just take them and bring them home?"

"Because what am I _supposed to say?"_ a distressed Percy asked. "Your grandmother is _SO_ nice and forgiving! It's why I named her after you, Molly. But she's going to be cross with me now. I haven't told you, but we had a fight years ago! Oh, and since we had another one right now, let's just leave the Burrow forever even though I've kept you secluded in my flat for the past four years because of _my own insecurities!_ It's fine and perfectly healthy parenting. I'll suppose I'll just have to try to explain this all to you in our flat that we never leave. But yes, your grandmother is nicest woman ever to exist, but _I'm_ a fucking twat that left his family ages ago because of a promotion. I…when—…"

His head was pounding. He felt like he had to lie down in a dark room for the next few hours just to cope.

Daphne just shrugged. "You are unravelling," she told him. "I don't think you're capable of real thought anymore."

What gave that away? Was it that he spent twenty minutes ranting about how he needed a leek quiche _NOW?_

Apparently, he also wasn't capable of writing down sentences either. He'd been misspelling his own name on reports for days and had felt so physically ill recently that he'd been throwing up in the toilets in his spare time. Percy also suddenly felt aware of crippling responsibility that he had on him. But he also felt like a _child_. Even though he was definitely not _allowed_ to be one for good now. How could he take care of his children? And why on earth was he sulking about the fact that he couldn't lock his room and sink deeply into his own self-loathing for days on end?

Percy took a deep breath. He felt a tightness in his chest that he tried to ignore. Perfect! _THIS_ feeling!

He was a _FATHER_. He shouldn't be anxious anymore, because there was nothing to _be_ anxious about…

 _Telling yourself not to be anxious is only making you MORE anxious_ , Percy bit to bit down his lower lip so that he wouldn't start panting like he'd been playing an hour on Quidditch. His cheeks were red. He felt embarrassed. He felt like he was a first-year walking around with legs that were too tall for him, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. It worked a treat when you were over six feet tall and your hair was the shade of the chilli-flavoured Bertie Bott's beans!

''…are you listening to me?" Daphne asked. Percy hadn't even noticed she was talking? Wonderful. "Percy?"

"Yes, I was listening to you," Percy tried to sound as firm as possible. "But can you please leave? I have work to do."

His brain was toast. Speaking of which, he felt bad for whoever's job it was to make sure bread slices was symmetrical.

"Are you feeling alright?" Daphne asked, looking worried. If he'd had a sickle for every time he'd heard _that!_

Percy just nodded his head. He did that unconsciously now! Internally, he debated whether or not to go to St Mungo's—but with how understaffed they were, he didn't particularly want to go and cause a debacle. He could just imagine the backlash in magazines and papers tomorrow. _The Minister's assistant gets sick!1!1! HOW DARE HE!111!_ wrote one muggleborn reporter. How did exclamation parts become _1_ to muggleborns anyway?

"You're going to give yourself a bloody heart attack one day," said Daphne when he didn't reply.

"Not today," Percy said. He did not have _TIME_ to have a heart attack thank you very much. "I have work to do."

After he tried to write a single coherent sentence and failed, Percy walked over to his father's office.

His eyes were bloodshot, but he'd tried to rub it away with enough peppy-looking Primpernelle products that he'd swiped from Daphne's desk. He fluctuated from being hyper and efficient to almost falling asleep in the lavatory if he gave himself five minutes just to rest his eyes. He felt nauseated and was sick a few times. Wonderful.

Before he could even say a word to Arthur about taking a few weeks off, his father just slammed a file into his chest and said, " _The Daily Prophet_ is here for questioning and updates on what we're doing here in the office. Just read what I wrote." And then disapparated.

What. The. Absolute. Fuck. Percy was enthralled. The department could set itself on fire, and his father wouldn't care as long as he got to home at _EXACTLY_ five! No, he was _NOT_ talking to _THE DAILY BLOODY PROPHET!_ And he was sick of working past five-in-the-afternoon every bloody day and barely being paid for it!

Percy rubbed his sky-blue eyes. He tugged at his overalls, and then stared vacantly at the window.

 _HOME?!_ Arthur Weasley was going back to the Burrow... Percy realised. His daughters were there!

He did not want to imagine what his mum would try to say to him, especially with how cross she was with him!

As if Percy would let that scoundrel meet his daughters _WITHOUT_ him supervising to make sure that the only things coming out of his mouth was how hard-working and perfect he was. He was fuming, thinking about his father just sat there trying to _teach_ his daughters lessons of life! Fortunately for Percy, he had drilled these things that he called _LOGICAL THINKING_ and _SCEPTICISM_ into his daughters' brains. They didn't accept anything without an adequate enough explanation. He taught them how to use a wand to alert the Ministry they were in danger if it ever came to it. He had them reading from scholarly journals with adequate citations. Yesterday, they asked why blokes didn't wear pink underpants, but girls wore blue underpants all the time! And you know what? He had no bloody clue why genders had colours. _BUT_ he wasn't about to start shopping for underpants the colour of a strawberry mousse!

He slammed the files down at his father's desk, and then grabbed a piece of parchment paper.

All he saw was _RED_. He was suddenly fuming, imagining all the things that his father would want to say if he saw his daughters. Spoiled brats, he'd think of them! Percy knew, because he remembered his father staring at children in Fortescue's that had a temper tantrum because they wanted three scoops instead of two, and they wanted marshmallows. As if he had a _RIGHT_ to judge other people's children when his own child got involved with Warty Shorts! When he did not even reflected on the horrors that his second-year daughter had faced under Dumbledore's watch! Percy was not about to forgive what happened just because he was right. You could be right but go about something a wrong way! Percy was still fuming, because how dare he put _HARRY POTTER_ above his own children?

He then decided he didn't want to dignify himself with why he couldn't do _The Daily Prophet_ interview because he technically finished his work ten minutes ago. Instead, he apparated to the Burrow the second that he left the building. Even though apparating did not help his queasiness, it seemed to practically disappear when he caught sight of his father's silhouette.

Percy's heart hammered in his chest when he saw Arthur knocking on the door. _MOLLY... LUCY!_

 _"NO!"_ Percy shrieked out and practically ran over there as fast as he could. Wow. He was seriously out of shape!

Arthur turned around and the look of shock on his face was almost hilarious. Percy sprinted towards the door—and then ran into the door. He inched backwards, rubbing his head. Wonderful. Now, he had a thumping headache.

 _"OW!"_ Percy rubbed his nose. Was he bleeding also? Did he chip his tooth? "Fitting! This house always hated me!"

"Percival, are you hurt?" Arthur asked. Of course, he was _concerned_. Percy was waving his fist at the door, acting like the house itself betrayed him instead of his prattiness. And his gitness. And his _Humongous Bighead_ …ness.

"Of course, I'm hurt!" Percy yelled at his father. "I just rammed _MY BIG FAT_ _HEAD_ into _A THICK DOOR!"_

Arthur looked affronted. How _dare_ Percy raise his voice at the Minister? Sod the Minister and the Ministry and Percy hoped it all burned down overnight. In other news… the Burrow door was thicker than Daphne's thick arse! _HA_.

Molly opened the door. "What's going on out here?" she sounded calmer than she was when Percy first visited her a few hours ago. She was still wearing that black polka-dotted frock. "Percival…? You've come back already?"

 _"Already?"_ Arthur reiterated. He was not up to speed. The last time he'd been 'back home' was four years ago.

Why did Arthur look so confused anyway? It wasn't like he was the one that was running around the Ministry, fuelled on more potions than most apothecaries could offer! It wasn't like he just slammed his head into a heaving, lumbering door! To add insult to injury, Percy was also seeing stars from Dumbledore's purple robes form in front of his very eye. Cosmic… it wasn't enough that his wife's death haunted him every day…but now, his former Headmaster's too!

"Yes, well…" Percy cleared his throat. Why was everyone calling him _Percival?_ "Hello, mum?" he offered.

Molly smiled softly at him. "Do you come inside and have a cup of tea?" Percy had never heard sweeter words.

"Yes, thank you," Percy answered a little enthusiastically. "I would absolutely love a cup of tea!" Molly laughed.

"Tea?" Arthur reiterated, as if it was the first time he'd heard of it!

Yes, tea… that thing that you'd been slugging down by the gallon the past few years. Percy rolled his eyes.

"Mother? Um… about our conversation earlier! I'm aware that I've done things that are beyond forgiveness. I am aware that I could be a real twat! Not that any of my siblings have allowed me to forget that! Sending me bloody 'Norwegian fertiliser' samples in my mail… But I really don't blame you at all for how you've lashed out, especially with how far we've drifted away in the last few years," Percy's cheeks went red at his awful apology. He should've at least practiced it. "I know that it couldn't have been pleasant having to learn such personal things about me from _A PAPER!_ You should've been at my _WEDDING_. You should've known about—about _them_. You should've met _them_ ages ago, especially with the war. Nobody could've known the outcome then and I have chosen to do the most imprudent things imaginable. I am proud, foolish and extremely lucky that we managed to come out of that war unscathed. Which I know is no thanks to me, hiding cowardly behind…"

Percy went from red to blue. He'd barely been breathing. "I want to make it clear that I didn't mean to hurt you in our previous altercations," he took a deep breath. "Well… um…I would like it very much if we could perhaps… just…"

"You're daft if you think you have to apologise to me!" Molly said, flushing herself. "I should apologise to you!"

He went even redder. "Mum, you're hardly in the position to be making apologies!" what was she going to apologise for exactly? What she should be doing was marvel at the fact that a bloke could have 12 O.W.L's and still be so stupid!

"I agree," Arthur said stiffly. Percy rolled his eyes. "We're hardly in the position to apologise."

 _WE?!_ Percy looked over at an unimpressed Arthur. _Why do I care about what you think?_ Percy thought sourly. He had specifically emphasised on _mother_ and not father. He was not about to apologise to _him_ after the amount of sleep he'd had in the last few weeks! In fact, he was waiting for his own handcrafted apology. Preferably written and stamped officially as he was the Minister of sodding Magic. Honestly. Percy would rather accept Skitty Skeeter as his new Minister.

If he ended up in hospital because he barely slept, he bet his father wouldn't visit him just to be even with him.

"What's prompted you to apologise, Percival?" Arthur asked. "And when had you started seeing your mum again?"

He just had to know what was going on, right? It didn't concern him. He was questioning him like an Azkaban escapee. Yes, he was seeing _his mother_ behind his back. Merlin forgive him for his crimes! Percy crossed his arms.

"This does _not_ concern you," Percy sent a pointed gaze towards his father. "And I didn't apologise to _YOU!"_

He knew that he was being childish. He had done a host of awful things to Arthur, but Arthur didn't deserve an apology at the current moment. Especially when he thought that he had nothing to apologise for. Merlin forbid that he disagreed with this family. Even the _MALFOY'S_ didn't subjugate Draco for not wanting to be a ruddy Death Eater... at least, that was what he thought anyway. What did he know about the Malfoy's? His father probably lost a year of his life every time Percy had a conversation with one of them!

"Good because I wasn't going to accept it," Arthur crossed his arms. Pitiful. This was a _forty-six_ -year-old man.

"I want to talk to my mother," Percy said seriously. He was not going to just let Arthur walk in to see his children!

Arthur looked at Molly who just sighed deeply. "Arthur? Love?" she said it so softly and so sweetly. She might as well be crumbling custard creams on top of vanilla ice-cream. That was how _sweet_ she sounded like. "Please?"

His father's stiff shoulders melted with her docile tones. "Alright, Mollywobbles."

Percy tried to bite the inside of his cheek, so he didn't show his father his smug grin. He knew he was wrong too, but he couldn't help but feel victimised now that he'd barely been functioning!

He was still fuming! Arthur demanded that Percy respect him like all the other Ministries by kissing his arse.

After Arthur disapparated, Percy was invited inside the Burrow. Chuffed, Percy walked inside.

He feigned surprise that it hadn't changed! Which of course, he already knew considering that he'd apparated into the house a few days ago… and recalled his past whilst sat in a couch that turned him into Orange Sesame Percy.

 _Yes, you were recalling how you met your wife,_ Percy's mind did not give it a rest. _Who you killed_. Wonderful.

Percy followed her down to the kitchen. He felt a warmth spread in his chest when he saw his daughters. They were sitting at the table that he sat in most meals of his life. He could still remember how it felt like on summer holiday when he woke up and smelled his mum's honey biscuits fresh out of the oven! His mum made them a plate of wholemeal toasties—a _plate_. There was enough on feed the whole Burrow—at a time, in the summer of 1989 when the whole family was in the house for lunch. They looked like they were trying to figure out what was inside of it without eating. Because Molly did not eat ham and cheese toasties and Lucy did not eat anything _but_ ham and cheese toasties.

"Do you still like your tea the same way?" Molly asked. He nodded, whilst he pulled out his wand. Twelve O.W. L's, three intense language courses, and he was reduced to trying to guess which toastie wasn't riddled with ham!

And you know what? Percy wouldn't have it any other way. He'd gladly do this for the rest of his life.

Whilst his mum put in enough sugar in his tea to make a gingerbread biscuit look like a sensible choice for a diabetic, Percy picked up a cheese and tomato toastie. He used his wand to slice off the crusts, because he couldn't be bothered to get a knife from his mum's kitchen drawer. His daughter Molly ate her toastie, but she was looking at him. Giving him that look that practically said _I hope you don't think I'm going to be alright with you doing this at home_. She would've normally demanded that he'd get a clean knife, which she had to watch him wash and dry, before cutting her toastie.

Merlin, he had such spoiled children. Back in his day, he wouldn't dare try taking the crusts off his toasties when his mum wasn't looking. _As if_ his mum would let him waste perfectly good food by chucking it down the bin.

Percy could feel his mum behind him. Judging him for playing into his daughter's hands by _cutting off her crusts_.

He sat down with his mum and their tea. He ate a cheese and tomato toastie, and sat there, thinking in silence.

His mother had every right to snap at him the way that she did. She had a lifetime of boasting his accomplishments to his siblings and he absolutely basked in the glory of being the perfect son! Percy had overhead Charlie and Bill use it as an excuse: _if Percy wanted to go, you'd let him do it!_ Rule-orientated Percy was sure that he didn't want to off to Romania to tame dragons or to fly off to Egypt to decrypt tombs, but his mum just melted like margarine when she heard them say that. Like she'd just given up. Seriously. His brothers were grasping at the short end of a broomstick when they were trying to blackmail their mum by telling her that she'd let her thirteen-year-old son do what he wanted!

At the time, third year Percy had been too tentative to give his mum the Hogsmeade slip just in case she said no.

He remained the only Weasley that had managed to get by Hogwarts without being sent a Howler, even when he deserved it. Case in point: once, he punched Roger Davies in Hogsmeade for trying to cup a feel of his girlfriend's… _toasties_.

Molly had always wanted someone to go to the Ministry and it was a dream come true for her when her perfect child decided that he wanted to go off to the Ministry. Her favouritism to him was thinly veiled it seemed. She accommodated his relationship with Penelope almost incautiously, even though she'd hated every slag that Bill and Charlie came home with. She was the first person that would congratulate him on his accomplishments. She was the first person that tried to talk some sense into him—and _he'd_ slammed the door in her face. She had to read in _The Daily Prophet_ about how her perfect son that had told her everything had gotten married and was widowed and hadn't even told her any of it!

Could he blame her for lashing out on him when he suddenly turned up with his daughters to her house?

Percy organised the toasties into two piles: ham and cheese, and not ham and cheese. Lucy reached out for another toastie after she finished her first. Meanwhile, Molly tried to analyse what kind of tomatoes were in hers. Lovely.

"They haven't said a word to me thus far. I've just managed to get them settled down to eat something—they've been drawing on every wall they've come across!" Molly admitted to Percy, laughing. She had a certain light to her eyes. His mum was obsessed with children! Well, it wasn't a secret considering she had so many. "How old are they?"

"Four," Percy said. Molly looked surprised. "They're very mature for four, mum! You have to give me that."

"I know," Molly looked over at them. "What are your names, girls?" When they didn't reply, she tried to put them at ease. "I'm your grandmother! My name is Molly. I won't bite you at all no matter how sweet you both look... now, why don't you want to tell my your names?"

They didn't answer her and pretended to be too busy eating. As if they couldn't hear when they ate!

"Aren't you going to answer your grandmother?" Percy asked very seriously. _"Molly,"_ he ordered.

His daughter, Molly, put down the toastie that she was still trying to analyse. With all that _analysing_ , he was going to have to buy her glasses. Especially if she kept squinting like that. Considering that both he and Audrey wore glasses, it was hardly a shocker that his children might need them too. "I'm Molly," she turned to her sister. "This is Lucy."

Before his mum could say anything, his father walked into the kitchen. "I'm not going to be kicked out of my own house, Molly," Arthur said. "I'm not—…" his eyes fell on Molly and Lucy. Then he turned as white as snow.


	11. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 2

_after this chapter, there will be 9/10 chapters of pure flashbacks to the rest of the Percy/Audrey story._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Ten: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 2

* * *

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw his father standing there, getting whiter over time. Breaking news: _The Minister of Magic now looked as white as potato salad!111!_ reported by a muggleborn.

It was as if the most effective silencing charm had been cast. For a while, nobody said anything.

It wasn't until Molly and Lucy fell asleep that he had to deal with the consequences. Unfortunately, during this time, Percy had worried himself into a massive panic attack and excused himself to sob relentlessly in a bathroom.

Percy most definitely used a Silencing Charm when he cried in his kitchen sink. Just like old times!

When he had gone downstairs after he put his children to bed, Percy froze when he he saw that Bill was standing there, looking about as cross as Fred and George were when Percy refused to do their homework for them. He tried to make himself as small as possible. But as hard as he tried to contort his body, he did not look _super sad and fragile aww_ considering that he was over six feet tall and his hair was larger than his freakishly swollen skull.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, which was probably congealed Pepper-Up Potion that he hadn't fully swallowed.

"Hello, William," Percy said to Bill. He felt hot, as if the room was stuffy. Really? Heat flashes in a bloke? As if _he_ was the one who had the hysterectomy and not his wife. Who was dead. Maybe she was haunting him.

Bill's face was almost stone-like. He supposed he wasn't in a good place with him either? "Hello, _Percival_."

 _Don't call me Percival don't call me Percival it is PERCY it is PERCY!_ he screeched in his head violently. Yes, what a sensitive glacial snowflake! _How dare they... they not call me by my nickname? How dare they use my first full given name…?_ Moron!

A moment of silence passed by and the lump in Percy's throat grew. He felt like he couldn't breathe. His chest burned.

"Percival, what is it that you've come to your mum about today?" Arthur asked, concocting his interrogation. It was not good enough that he was Ministry for Magic… he had to be an Auror now too. "And about those girls—"

"What _girls?"_ Bill asked. The way that Bill looked like was comical. He probably thought that Percy bought over some women over from a pub and was intending to share them as an apology. Percy shuddered. This was starting to sound like a plot straight out of one of his _Bludgeoning Budge Bludger Booties_ magazines. " _PERCY_ brought home girls?"

Percy was sure his father was shaking because he knew who those girls were. "I've come to apologise," Percy said.

Arthur was looking smug almost. "I've already told you that your apology is not—"

"To _mum,"_ Percy cut him off, to which he heard Molly sigh deeply. "I am not apologising to someone that has been overworking me for the past bloody month to the point where I genuinely hate every second that I've been in the office. I am not apologising to someone that has purposely made it his sole purpose to make me hate myself. I am not about to roll around in the ground like _YOUR PERSONAL PET!_ And then top it off with an _APOLOGY!"_

Bill was angry. "After all the things _WE_ did to save your arse when you were cowering under papers!" he hissed. "And poor _HARRY!_ The bloke that was so 'mental'… he's actually is the only reason you're alive right now!"

Percy went red. _YOU SAVED ME?_ His head thudded, and his chest hurt. _Oh, how generous of you!_

He was anxious for no reason whatsoever than by being confronted with someone that had the same blood type as him. He _was_ sorry. He was sorry he hadn't visited Arthur in the hospital. Percy was sorry he had the row. But he was not about to say _any_ of this because that would mean that he had to give up his last shard of dignity to do so.

He had to practically imply that he wasn't wrong. Percy just… didn't think that he was 100% wrong. Or was he?

When the thought came to his mind that maybe he was wrong all along and just delusional for thinking that he was even a little right, Percy felt his chest tighten even harder and his breath get stuck in his throat. He felt like he'd just been slammed in by something cold and icy. This was _just_ what he needed! Questioning his own existence at six pm! _But what if he was wrong?_ What if all this time, he was this stupid little kid that threw prolonged temper tantrums and had his family worrying about him for months on end? What if Audrey's family was right about him? What if his 'depression' wasn't real _,_ and he was just overexaggerating every feeling he had since everyone told him he had none?

Percy could technically end this fight by himself. It had gone on long enough. _Maybe he should maybe he should maybe._

It had been _FOUR YEARS_. If someone wanted apologise for 'mistreating him', they would've done it ages ago when they thought that everyone was going to die. Maybe he really just didn't have a sense of humour…? Maybe him staying up late in an old office with a chair that was about to give him a herniated disc was _FAIR ALL ALONG?_

"Percival?" Arthur called out. He just _hated_ being Percival. It reminded him of Audrey when he was called that.

He felt the lowest of the low. Why did he care about his rights or this stupid fight for anyway? _He killed his wife._

"I'm sorry," Percy's voice was so low that he was sure that even werewolves strained to hear it. But he sounded so genuine. It was like the second that he said it, he realised how wrong he'd been…

Percy knew his family were good people. They had to stop a war. He was guilty. He could see it now. "I'm sorry."

How could he not have seen it before? How could he have been so stupid? How could he do this to his children? How could he keep them secluded in a tiny space in the middle of nowhere because he thought it would be best? Because Percy—oh no bloody _Percival_ —Ignatius Weasley couldn't handle coping with anything?

How is that anyone else's fault? Percy wondered. That he was _sensitive?_ That he was _weak?_

If this was the only way that he could have a functioning relationship with his family, fine. Percy suddenly felt extremely hollow and depressed. He'd never been in such a lose-lose situation before. If he had any actual reason to be livid with his family in the last few years, then it would never be taken seriously by anyone now that he had practically admitted that he was wrong. He was the one that stuck his hand in the proverbial biscuit tin, and Arthur was just the innocent bystander. And if Percy actually was the one to blame then he must be a real sore loser, because he had somehow managed to drag out a fight _THROUGH A WAR_. And had done so for four years. His status as the perfect son? _HA_. He had practically had a horrifying temper tantrum that crumbled the foundation of his family. Percy. Who had done _EVERYTHING RIGHT_ up until that stupid row. And it accounted for nothing. His brothers that had broken every single rule and never applied themselves to anything? Well, they were recognised heroes.

 _Are you really pitying yourself?_ Percy thought. _After all the things that you've done, ARE YOU REALLY PITYING YOURSELF?_

Percy just stared at Arthur vacantly, waiting for him to invalidate him. To tell him that he wouldn't accept his apology. To make him hate himself even more, but nothing happened. They just stared at each other.

"Say it again," Arthur said. Yes, Percy. _Roll over like I showed you._

Molly looked appalled by this. "Arthur, that's _HARDLY APPROPRAITE!"_ Bill just stared at Percy, speechless.

"Dad, just leave him alone," Bill even looked surprised that Arthur said that. Even _Arthur_ looked surprised he did. Percy was sure that Arthur forgot that he was _… his father_. He hadn't been someone's son for a long time. He had lived separate lives to his parents for years now. He wasn't sure how his siblings would treat him. "He said he was sorry already. How many times do you want him to say it? Or do you want him to write _a public apology?"_ he sounded angry.

There were portraits with more life to them than Percy. "I'm sorry," he repeated anyway.

Arthur looked almost sorry for a moment. Like he wanted to retract whatever he'd said… but he didn't.

"Fine," Arthur said, his shoulders slumped. "Okay." Even Bill looked confused about what was going on.

"Hey," Bill walked over to Percy, and his eyes were suddenly soft. "Tell us what what's going on." He placed a hand on Percy's shoulder, and it was almost comforting in a way. Why wasn't he angry at him anymore?

Four years of fighting all amounted to this moment. Four years of living alone and raising two children and this was what the end result was. Percy felt… _disappointed_. He didn't feel any welcomed back into the family than he did ten minutes ago. To make matters worse, Percy was sure that he wouldn't be treated the same no matter what. In fact, they'd probably see as accepting him back into the family as their _act of kindness_ for a stupid, ugly git like him…

With Arthur glaring at him, Percy could practically see his nostrils flaring. He looked thinner than he normally was. Percy wondered if this was the time to suggest a _recycled nasogastric tube?_

"I have children," Percy blurted out. As eloquently as he could. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore how he'd reacted when he'd told them. He was absolutely terrified of Bill just slapping across the face for being such an inconsiderable arsehole—not that he didn't deserve that if it were to happen.

Why did Arthur look shocked? Percy was sure that he knew that they had to be his children. They were red-headed, freckled, and four years old. What _ELSE_ could they have been? Did he think he was running a Weasley adoption centre in his house where members of his family that didn't want to have their babies could turn to him? Yes, because _that_ didn't contradict with the fact that his father and siblings believed he licked the Minister's arse in his spare time!

Arthur didn't sound like he was too keen to hear that. "Percy, you're twenty-three. And they were _not_ new-borns."

 _Thank you, Dumbledore_ , Percy thought in his head. _I didn't know I needed your infinite wisdom!_

"That's because I had them when I was eighteen," Percy tried to explain. It didn't _sound_ like Arthur was wanted to accept him back. "Audrey and I were set up by my ex-girlfriend Penelope Clearwater. She thought that she finally found someone as 'uptight' as me and believed we'd hit it off on that. Before she left, she gave us an expensive bottle of… _not so clear water_ when we were 'getting to know each other'. The drink was so strong that I can't even recall what happened after the first one? But it was quite obvious in the morning that we had… _um_ —well… we copulated?"

Percy was turning red. He couldn't believe he was rattling on about this in front of _his parents_.

Molly was just shaking her head and trying not to laugh. _Thanks, mum. You're a real help!_

Bill looked so amused. Even his angry, jagged scars were laughing at how incompetent Percy was. "You had a drunken one-night stand with a muggle and she showed up much later to tell you that she was knocked up?" Bill guessed, crossing his arms. "Really? Your ex-girlfriend managed to find someone from the same planet as you?"

Pardon him, _WHO_ was telling the story here? Go back to playing with your wolf buddies!

Bill just thought that this was a generic story about how a bloke forgot that there was such a thing as _protection, abstinence_ and most importantly, not staring at your one-night stand's lip scar and making her feel uncomfortable! And he was absolutely right, so why was Percy feeling irritated about the fact that between his O.W.L's and her A* Levels, neither of them had managed to come up with the possibility of using Plan B as a contraception?

Bill stiffened a little bit. "They're in the house?" he asked. "Girls? More than one of them?"

"Sleeping upstairs," Percy replied. "Yes, girls. They're twins and they're four years old."

"Is that it?" Arthur looked hollow-faced. Like he'd been expecting a better explanation. Probably one that was good enough to explain why he hadn't told anyone about them until _now_. "You have children and were previously married to a woman I'll never met because she's dead? Is there anything else you've managed to exclude, Percival?"

"Yes, well…" Percy's ears got even redder. Maybe Bill _SHOULD_ tell the story. "No, that's… that's it."

He _did_ feel like he owed his father another apology for that. Because the more he thought about it, the more Percy was convinced he'd been wrong all along. He'd even forgotten why he'd felt so smug and self-righteous all the time… Because it couldn't be easy to find out that your son had blatantly lied and kept information for you for ages especially when he hadn't even had the courage to fess up when he'd been your assistant for nearly a month now.

He'd practically been saying that he'd been mistreated by everyone in his family? How did that make any sense? When he'd gone outside into the real world and received similar treatment… it must mean that _he_ was wrong all along.

Percy felt shattered. He'd never felt like he'd been selfish, but who fought with his family for four years over _nothing?_

No wonder they hated him so much. All they saw was a conceited arsehole that couldn't even be bothered to tell them that he'd had daughters. Percy hadn't even wanted Molly and Lucy to meet any of them because he was sure that they'd like the rest of his family more. How _selfish_ was that? Percy felt appalled at his own behaviour. Why did he feel like he was entitled to _anything_ right after what happened to Audrey? Every time he'd found something was too hard to cope with, he retreated so far into himself that he ended up talking out of his own arse!

"Do you really have that little respect for me?" Arthur asked, and he almost sounded hurt. Molly looked like she wanted to cut in, but Arthur's voice bellowed. "That you won't even tell me that straight to my face? That I had to find out because I just happened to come into my own house when it was inconvenient for you?"

Percy just stared at him with glassy blue eyes. "Do you want me to leave?" he offered softly.

"I'm _SICK_ of you leaving every time something is _TOO HARD FOR YOU TO COPE WITH!"_ Arthur called him out.

Percy thought nobody understood him. Arthur had him pegged. Because right now, all he did just want to go back to his flat and pretend that this never happened. He, the bloke that wanted nothing more than to would live in absolute ignorance. A Gryffindor that would do anything to avoid confrontation. What an absolute joke.

"Alright," Percy cleared his throat, but said nothing else.

"Molly, let's eat," Arthur said, nodding to his wife, who just stared at Percy with soft eyes.

Molly reached out to rub Percy's arm. His shameless mum. "Your father's just having a hard time," she said. "It's a lot to talk in. I'm sure that with time, he's going to accept it when he meets those beautiful girls."

Percy nodded his head. "Yes, I'm sure." He felt physically exhausted. "Thank you, mother."

She beamed at him. "I've missed you so much. I hope you come by again soon," Molly animatedly babbled. "I wish you two would've stopped the fighting so much sooner. I don't understand how or why it went on for so long!"

Percy just smiled at her. She truly looked so happy that 'the fighting had stopped.'

"Do you want to come over tomorrow?" Molly asked excitedly. She sounded more excited than Percy's own little girl Molly when she discovered how to make teddy bear toast from peanut butter, bananas and blueberries. Percy felt gutted, because he'd rather be doing it for her himself. "After work? I haven't made a Sunday roast in ages…"

They walked into the kitchen where Bill was lying out plates. Even one for awful, awful selfish Percy.

In the kitchen, Arthur opened the containers of Chinese takeaway he bought home. Percy was not particularly surprised they were eating takeaway, since the house was so empty that the Weasley family clock was echoing back at him. The ghoul downstairs probably was the only thing that caused a ruckus these days. It must be sad having seven children and having a house that was hollower than the inside of a Honeyduke's strawberries and cream Easter bunny. It must be even sadder knowing that one of your children didn't tell you that his muggle wife had died giving birth to your grandchildren four years ago. Grandchildren that wore wearing nicer dresses than you had on your wedding day!

"Do you want me to fix you a plate?" Bill offered, and Percy stared at the spread.

"I'm a vegetarian," Percy explained, just before Bill started to pile on his plate. Bill looked at the spread as if he was trying to find a vegetable buried between orange glazed chicken and fried rice that was tossed with prawns.

"What do you mean you're a _vegetarian?"_ Molly had reacted more violently to that than she had when he'd told her that he had a one-night stand with a muggle girl. Percy wasn't even the least bit surprised. "That's why you've got no meat on your bones!" His mum would think he had 'no meat on his bones' if he came back home so round that he'd resort to modelling frocks for Puffskeins to feel good about himself.

Arthur looked like he wanted to slam the fork down. " _ANYTHING ELSE_ you want to add on?" he said loudly.

His dad had so much beef with him… um… pun unintended. _"NO!"_ Percy said, turning red. He couldn't even have supper with his father without accidentally remembering something about him had changed in the last four years.

When they were eating, Percy started to doze off a little bit.

He had felt like the worst son ever to exist. He was now thinking about everything wrong he'd done in the last few years. He'd been debating whether or not he was even a good presence around his own children. Percy hated feeling like this. He was analysing every single little interaction he'd had with people in his whole life. But it just didn't make any sense. How did he not see it before? How did he really believe that _everyone_ was being mean to him? If everyone was telling him he was a massive git, then why did he believe that they were being arseholes and deny the fact that maybe he was? Percy thought. He'd literally destroyed his family and showed no remorse for that.

Percy excused himself to check on Molly and Lucy, who were not asleep anymore, but instead, were sitting in his room. They found Ginny's Pygmy Puff in her room and were trying to play with it. When he left his room, he was stopped in the middle of the hall _BY THE REST OF HIS SIBLINGS!_ Where did they come from? _DID BILL SUMMON THEM?_ Was that _Charlie_ there too? Percy felt delirious. Charlie who apparently hadn't returned to Romania. Of course, the _only one_ who had a link between his family and Audrey. This was just the reunion that he wanted! Ginny looked like she wished she'd hit him with more than parsnip. Ron probably wanted to put him in Azkaban. _ABSOLUTELY. TOP NOTCH!_

"Charlie told me he's met Audrey," Bill looked at Percy seriously. "So, what's the whole story?"

"Let's go downstairs," Percy tried to avoid Fred and George's death glares. He felt uncomfortable around Ron and Ginny, especially with what they went through. "It's a long story." In fact, the whole family just came round to hear him justify himself. So, he told them everything… except for the things that he excluded. But otherwise, he told them _everything!_


	12. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 3

_these are **flashback** scenes. assume that Percy told **most** of the story except for the parts that i mentioned that he most definitely didn't. _

_there is **two** particular plotlines i might take this story to, but it might not be a good idea... i already have two ideas in my head that use that specific plotline. again, it's not something necessarily in the summary. i had this fanfiction in a very specific direction but something inside of me is telling me to take it into a completely different route... a very dangerous, slippery Percy angst rope._

 _the **first one** is going to change so much of this fanfiction. the **second** one is even worse. the first one i am really tentative about because as i mentioned, i already have two fanfiction ideas that hinge on it. the second one i'd probably only ever do in this fanfiction because of the very unique circumstances... _

_**comment replies:**_

 _ **Guest** : i mostly wanted to update as fast as possible because i wanted to say that i **do** agree that Percy is an unjustly mistreated character. the reason why most of the writing is so self-destructive and self-loathing and accusatory is because most of it is in Percy's point of view. so most of what you're reading are his own thoughts about himself. i reread my own writing and it does come across as me mocking him. it is not me as 'the writer' but rather Percy mocking himself because of how lowly he views himself after long years of fighting / bad interactions with people (he repeatedly calls himself a prat / a git because people call him that etc). he has such low self-esteem in the fanfiction as a whole and consistently doubts himself as a father/son/person in general. right now, he is starting to doubt whether or not he should be fighting with his parents in the first place. he is basically so sick of the fighting and his current situation that he is willing to make a fool of himself/his beliefs **even** if he is right because he wants to stop the fighting for the sake of his daughters. because he is afraid he's kept them secluded (as how Daphne had told him in the beginning). he is a single parent that is literally chronically sleep deprived and overworked. basically, everyone around him has made him feel guilty enough that he's starting to believe that he was wrong all along. this doesn't mean that it's what i believe should be happening, and it will be addressed later on that he is being seriously mistreated. i mention in the flashbacks that you will see that he has been very depressed for a long period of time and Penelope made a mockery of it, so he just sucks it up and tries to forget about how he feels. he is a very anxious person in this fanfiction, and repeatedly panics / has panic attacks where it is pretty obvious he blames himself / hates himself / believes that he's wrong. because very few people in this fanfiction are actually on his side and everyone is quick to judge his actions, e.g. Daphne and Penelope laughing about his idea about 'testing the equipment' but not offering solutions especially when they know that he is overworked and hasn't been sleeping very well, which he also points out a few times. i also do believe that everything he's said about his father / Harry and Dumbledore were true. i hope that this makes more sense! i'm sorry it's not very well explained sometimes as i do rely on subtlety to explain some things, e.g. the fact that he's very sarcastic and cynical, etc. Percy does forgive a lot of people in this fanfiction, e.g. Penelope in the flashback sequence even if she doesn't deserve it.  
_

 _ **Phoenix Rising:** "Ugh! I wanted to read that conversation! Good grief, Percy sure can beat himself up." technically, the flashbacks are kind of what he says. except 'for the stuff he excluded'._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Ten: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 3

* * *

 **Things that Percy had excluded when retelling this part of the story** : his almost alcoholism, his row with Penny, his awful self-esteem and his undiagnosed depression (that he could not get diagnosed because he was very busy).

* * *

Percy did not like May as a month. May… May… _May I fuck you over in the arse?_ At the time, he did not believe that there was a war, so he wouldn't have been able to anticipate that May was also the month that the war would end.

At the time, May was the month where his whole life dissolved and faded away into obscurity, not unlike moonstone in a cauldron. Unfortunately, Neville was the one brewing the pot, because _everything_ blew up in his face! His promotion, the fight that he had with Arthur and this month's disappointing issue of _The Practical Potioneer!_

When he stormed out of the Burrow, Percy wondered if he should decline Fudge's job offer. He had twelve O.W.L's! What a pity it was that had the personality of a flobberworm. Why would anyone else hire him?

On the first night in his new flat, he felt sad that he didn't have any mates to bring him flat-warming gifts.

He had never been invited to parties in Hogwarts. Penelope was the only one that invited him to Quidditch games.

Most people assumed that he wasn't interested. He rarely went to Hogsmeade. Percy never had anyone to go with him, and he only went when he needed supplies. Everyone at Crouch's department despised him. He'd never been invited to the coffee room with them, and whenever he passed by, he could hear them laughing at him.

 _Who does HE think he is?_ Percy could recall hearing some of his colleagues say. _Crouch doesn't even know his NAME!_

Whenever he tried to fall asleep, all he could hear was the twins laughing at him: _reckon he'd know your name now, Perce?_

Percy wished he could feel happy about his promotion or his flat. He wished that he'd felt as confident about how right he was when he was having that spiff with his father. Instead, Percy felt like something inside of him had just been ripped out and tossed in the Burrow. He was too much of a coward to go back home and retrieve it. So, now, he tried to make do without that- _that thing_. But how could he make do with a large, gaping hole inside of him?

The painful truth was his father's name didn't ruin his chances in the Ministry. He was _not_ struggling because of his father's reputation. His father was eccentric, but people knew him as _nice_. People _liked_ Arthur Weasley. Some even adored him! He would do favours for them without asking for pay, even though he desperately needed it. He would help them with their personal issues. He had people to talk to during their coffee breaks. Percy was a disappointment to everyone else. Because he could write as many reports as he wanted, and he could have as many shiny badges, but nobody would ever like him. That reality that stripped of all his accomplishments, nobody found him likable.

Look at him now! He didn't have a family. His only friend was Penelope. He drove everyone else away… all his fault!

Two weeks after he moved into his flat, Penelope Clearwater visited him. She owled him three days earlier, and he found himself almost excited for the visit. He'd made his mum's favourite chocolate-chip pumpkin bread. It did not rectify the fact that he'd slammed the door into his mum's face when she came to visit him three days earlier.

When he opened the door, he was gobsmacked. Percy knew that they were called shorts, but this was just ridiculous! He could practically see where she was on her ovulation cycle in those bleeding clothes (pun unintended).

She asked him how he was. "I'm not fine," Percy replied, and _that_ was the understatement of the year.

He hoped that he would have Penelope's support. Or that she'd at least put on the bathrobe he offered to her!

"Why are _YOU_ not fine?" Penelope asked. Percy was sat in the same black trousers for days. He looked like he got his styling tips from Bill. The only time he went to answer the door was to ward off anyone that might still like him. He sent the most pretentious owls to his family in hopes they'd leave him alone to die. " _YOU_ left _THEM!"_

Percy just stared at her vacantly. His whole world was crumbling before his eyes. He hadn't turned up to work yet and told the Minister he'd rather work from his flat. Here, nobody cared if he was drinking firewhiskey at eight.

" _NO!_ They let me leave," Percy was tired. He shouldn't be because he slept ten hours a day. "I'm alone _all the time_."

Percy had five brothers and a sister! He didn't know how to be alone. He thought it was going to be nice, but he felt like he could die in his flat and nobody would care. Even in Hogwarts sharing a dormitory with Oliver Wood, he was never alone because he had half the castle in the room at any point in time.

At least his flat was spotless. Yesterday, he threw a tin of sugar on the floor just so he'd have something to clean up.

"Suck it up," Penelope hissed coldly at him. Percy's body sagged against the doorframe. "There are people there that have it worse than you, and _THEY_ haven't completely shut down and given up on their life! There are innocent Azkaban prisoners that have to relive their saddest, most despondent memories every day and they haven't gone insane! Yet here you are, sat brewing in your own prolonged pity party because _YOU_ decided to leave your family!"

"Is _that_ supposed to make me feel better?" Percy asked bitterly.

 _"I don't want you to feel better!"_ Penelope yelled. "Do you know why no one's on your side? Because you're _that_ wrong!"

Percy wanted to slam the door into her face, but that would be rude. Yes, it didn't stop him from doing it to his mother, which he hated himself for. At the same time, he was sure if the opportunity arose, he'd probably do it again.

"Your parents are the sweetest people in the whole world!" Penelope told him. "I can't believe that you'd do something like this to them. I only met your parents once last year, and your mum sent a present for my birthday! _YOU_ haven't even done that for me! Your father came to St Mungo's to give it to _ME_ instead of just sending it by post! He also told me all those awful things that you-you told him! And your mum…! _How could you do that to THEM?"_

 _Pardon him!_ _SHE_ broke up with him and she wanted a gift? His parents didn't even know that their relationship ended!

He was about to slam the door to her face. Instead, she pushed past him right into his flat. How bloody rude.

Percy's flat was immaculate as always—not because he kept up with it, but it was because all he had to do was laundry. He didn't buy much in groceries. There was a pile of paperwork on his desk that he could barely look at without remembering the row with his father. There was that couch that he cried in every night.

Penelope picked up his papers, and then started tearing the parchment into pieces. _"I… can't… believe… you!"_

"I can't believe _YOU!"_ Percy yelled from the doorway. "I'm calling the bloody Aurors if you don't get out… _NOW!"_

And to think he sat by _HER_ bedside when she was petrified! When she cried about that, he didn't tell _her_ to suck it up.

Merlin, she wasn't even conscious for it, and she still moaned on about it. Oh, and when _SHE_ broke up with him, she told him she took the week off from work to cry in her bedroom! Yet _SHE… BROKE UP WITH HIM!_

Now, thinking back on it, Percy did not know why people around him had this irretractable need to throw his workload in the rubbish bin, or start destroying the reports that took him ages to write. It was a big, generous _fuck you_ to his face. Did you know how many hours he spent doing that? How would _SHE_ like it if he walked into her flat and tore up her patient's notes? Well, he could try but either way, he most definitely wouldn't get very far, because he'd be thrown in the Wizengamot for a trial within the hour. He'd be in Azkaban by the morning. _Then_ he could be justified in his melancholy because he'd be an innocent Azkaban prisoner reliving his saddest, most despondent memories! All _Penelope_ would get was a bloke trying to calm her down, and then escort her safely home! The double-standard!

Oh, great. Now that she was done destroying his work, she started crying. And _HE_ was the one that had to suck it up?

"I'm sorry," Penelope said, leaning back against his couch. She just clawed through his work, and she made a troll look coordinated. Crying? In his flat? After she _DEMOLISHED HIS WORK?_ "Well, I'm not really sorry but…"

 _"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"_ Percy snapped coldly. He was already exhausted.

Penelope jumped up from her couch. He didn't feel sorry for her… or her suffocating thighs in those teeny-tiny shorts!

"I actually came to talk to you about Audrey," Penelope's voice was soft now. Really? Then why in Merlin's name was she tearing his reports down after telling him off for leaving his family? Dear Merlin, she was unhinged. Did he really date her? "But I _am_ concerned about you." _THAT_ was concern? Even Snape would've been more considerate.

 _"Did you?"_ Percy mumbled. His heart ached, thinking about Audrey… the gardenia girl he might have accidentally deflowered and hurt. "Concerned about me? I was under the impression you came to facilitate my suicide!"

"Don't say _that_ ," Penelope said. " _That's_ a very serious thing!" Percy rolled his eyes. He was actually considering it. What did he have in his life now? He had nothing. If he went home, they would never ever treat him the same again.

"I can say whatever I fancy. This is my flat," Percy bitterly replied. "No, get on with it!"

"When did you turn so cynical?" the more Penelope talked, the more Percy wanted to drink. _"Percy."_

What did she mean when did he _turn_ cynical? He'd always been cynical but these days, he could barely contain it! This was his bloody girlfriend of two and a half years… she should've known how he was like! Percy just rolled his eyes.

"Is there something seriously wrong with you?" now, Penelope looked concerned. Wonderful. He felt so loved.

Percy was sure that his heart had a big hole in it, that only a gigantic, anatomically-correct doughnut hole could fill. Well, in theory. In practice, he was not very doughy, and he could not have nuts because he was allergic to them.

"Nothing that _I_ can't deal with," Percy said coldly. He walked towards his kitchen counter to sip his cold coffee—which he spiked with whatever that purple thing he bought was. He felt a warmth travel up his spine. It was disgusting. "Given as there are innocent people in Azkaban that are living their saddest, most despondent memories!"

His stomach growled at him. Percy ignored it. He barely ate, solely because he didn't want to deal with the dishes.

"We can talk about this," Penelope inched forward to him. Why would he want to talk to her? Just a second ago, she told him off for daring to treat his parents poorly. "Merlin, _what_ are you drinking?"

"What does it matter what I'm having?" Percy opened the door, staring at her with steely eyes. "Get _OUT_ of my flat!"

Penelope stiffened slightly but then relaxed. Percy wished he actually did alert the Aurors. Though when they'd escort her out, they would probably talk about how much of a prat he was for laughs. Why not? Everyone else did it. His family was particularly good at it. They called him a prat more than they did his actual name.

"No," she tucked a hair behind her ear. "I am not leaving this flat, Percy. Alright? I'm not leaving this flat."

Percy's hand loosened on his door. He couldn't even kick Penelope out of his own flat! _Did nobody respect his wishes?_

Well, of course not, because he was a prat and he was always wrong. He knew for a fact that if he went back home, he was wrong. If he stayed here, he was wrong. Percy just wished that he'd sucked up his bloody pride two weeks ago and never left the Burrow! Because this had been the worst decision he'd made in his life. What if Harry was right and there really was a war? _What then?_ He couldn't… couldn't-couldn't just go back home! But his father wouldn't let him leave, if he really thought there was a war? It wouldn't be safe! He couldn't hate him that much.

But what if he did? What if he'd mucked up their relationship _that much_ just by that one row?

Percy's head was spinning, and he felt like collapsing in his bed. It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet!

 _Just… just LOOK at him!_ He was so bloody pathetic. He didn't even want to go to the Ministry because his co-workers absolutely hated him. He didn't want to kiss anyone's arse anymore or see people. He didn't want to deal with his own contempt for Harry bloody Potter, the missing Weasley that Percy never knew Ron and Ginny wanted so much!

"I want to talk about Audrey," Penelope said. _Remember her?_ Percy's heart raced. _You disappointed her too!_

"What did you want to say? About Audrey?" Percy couldn't believe it. He was supposed to come back and ask her how she went on! The last he saw her, she was sobbing away in her flat all alone! Merlin strike him with lightning.

"Well…" as Penelope spoke, Percy wondered how he ever even liked her. "She contacted me a day ago."

Percy did not know anything about Audrey, but this could just be another conversation about the weather. Or the fact that he was a gigantic pig that dared to break her heart after he slept with her. Either could be plausible.

"What… _what about?"_ Percy said weakly. "I suppose she told you that I wanted nothing to do with her…?"

"Yes, she did," Penelope continued, her voice softer than Molly's homemade Victoria sponge. "Whenever I called her to meet up, she always said that she was so busy. But recently, I can tell that she wasn't… wasn't doing well so I decided to pop around anyway. So, you can imagine my surprise when I saw her, she was…! _REALLY!"_

Percy's heart was doing weird twists that would most probably land him in the infirmary. He had an O in Divination. He knew, deep down, that whatever Penelope was about to say would make this situation worse. He _knew!_

 _"THEN_ she told me that-that—she didn't have to tell me. You'd have to be blind not to know but…" Penelope ran her hand through her hair. " _That she's pregnant!_ Like _VERY_ pregnant! But she-she doesn't want to bother you! And there is a chance that that night that you and her—well, it dates back perfectly to when she started feeling ill! She said she thinks you two used protection, but you were so out of it that…well, it _could_ be possible."

Percy's face turned ashen pale. There was a moment of passing silence, with Penelope shifting on the balls of her feet.

Penelope cleared her throat. "Well, it… you know…" he did not know. "It could… could be worse."

She seemed uncomfortable from where she was. "Percy? You've gone awfully white."

Awfully white! Percy felt like he'd just been diagnosed with rigor mortis. This was all Penelope's fault. Her and her bloody forget-me-not firewhiskey! He wouldn't have even met this woman in the first place if it wasn't or her. On the plus side, forget-me-not firewhiskey was aptly named for the woman that liked her flowers.

 _"I've gone awfully white?"_ Percy reiterated. "Are you bloody serious? Are you… having a laugh at me?"

"Why would I be having a laugh at you?" Penelope looked defensive. Why? Because he was a big, fat joke.

Audrey being pregnant! She harboured the belief that Percy wanted nothing more than her numb genitals! Percy did not know a thing about Audrey besides her preferences for small talk, but this was not painting a pretty picture. _This_ was that self-portrait that six-year-old Charlie did for Mother's Day! It caught on fire that day!

"Percy?" Penelope looked scared to say his voice. So, her telling him off for being useless was a bonus today?!

Percy stared at Penelope with a hardness to his face. _"GET OUT OF MY FLAT!"_ he repeated.

Penelope closed her eyes, and her hands were shaking. _Why was she crying?_ She wasn't about to have a baby! She wasn't the one that had to rewrite the reports that her ex-partner tore up for no reason! She wasn't the one that had to sober up to the fact that this woman had been by herself for most of her pregnancy because she was under the impression that he wanted nothing to do with her anymore!

"Percy, I know this is very hard for you to deal with…" Penelope suddenly said, and he was so enthralled he wished that he could strangle her with his favourite bathrobe. "It's a shock that—"

She looked terrified when he smashed his coffee cup on his ground.

"You know what? I'm sick of this!" Percy snapped, his hands shaking. "If _YOU'RE_ not leaving this flat, _I WILL!"_

Percy placed his hands into the pocket of his pants. He was desperately underdressed. He suddenly hated this flat so much. When he went down three flights of stairs, he collapsed at the bottom stair. He buried his head into his knees.

The truth was, besides the pub— _HA_ , he didn't really know where to go! What in Merlin's name happened to him? Penelope was right. When did he turn so cynical and unhinged?

He didn't even drink because he was an alcoholic. He had stopped drinking a week ago but picked it up again because he had nothing better to do and was sickeningly lonely. Percy didn't want to turn up to work because he didn't want the risk of running into his father. He was so anxious that his heart did more leaps in an hour than a Chaser _AND_ he was technically working from the flat that he hated more than Ron hated _Prefects Who Gained Power_. His apartment complex was smack in the middle of nowhere, and it smelled like his mum's casserole after she burned it.

Even if he did apologise, he didn't deserve the Burrow anymore. At the same time, he couldn't tolerate a single negative comment about himself anymore. He felt like he'd just crack under pressure… not unlike a crème brûlée!

He knew his insides were made of undercooked white slop that he'd been trying to repackage into something better.

Percy was a fool. He used to think that nothing could be worse than the pressure he was under, working for Crouch and having his family call him demeaning things because he was dedicated to his job. He was being smothered by his workload every single day and they laughed at him for kissing Crouch's arse. _That_ was when he was on good terms with them! Now, Percy could just imagine the terrible things they were saying about him in his home. The thought of his own siblings bad-mouthing him after the row depressed him so much. Even if he made up with his father, they'd continue to hate him. Even if he came home tomorrow, nothing would ever be the same ever again…

Percy ruined that the second that he chose to walk out of the Burrow. And at the time, he didn't realise that he had.

Now, how was he, Perfect Prissy Percy, supposed to have a child when he'd just left home this summer? He was barely of age! He couldn't shield himself from other people's sneers! How in Merlin's name was he supposed to do that for a _child?_ What if there really was a war and Harry wasn't a crockpot like he thought? How was he supposed to take care of a child in _a bloody war?_ The way his mum did, by yelling at him because she couldn't control the twins? Screeching at him when he opened the window to look outside because it had been so long since he'd been out?

What if Audrey didn't want anything to do with him because he was a berk that wasn't there for the past few months?

Percy slept with Audrey nearly seven or eight months back! She was closer to popping that bloody baby out of her Kneazle cave than he'd be comfortable with. He didn't have any parenting books. He didn't know if she'd been to any birthing classes. He didn't know if she visited any muggle version of healers! He was so skint that it was ridiculous. He'd just bought this flat yesterday! If he knew he was having a baby, he'd have looked for a cardboard box without any form of eckeltricity. (It had to have plumbing, of course. He wasn't an animal.) Oh, and for the icing his death day tombstone cake, his parents didn't even know he broke up with Penelope to begin with!

That would be quite the chat. _Mum, I've left Penelope. Here's a muggle I slept with… she's having my child! I… I don't know if she wants me around! Oh, but I can't tell you that, mum, because I've slammed the door in your face three days ago!_

"Hey," Penelope said. She was cool in her shorts. He was turning into a loaf of chocolate-chip pumpkin bread. "Hey."

Penelope sat down right beside him and held his arm. "Percy?" her voice was soft. "Are you alright?"

"I suppose," if she believed him, then he might have an aneurysm. "I'm _eighteen_. That's even worse than my father."

Arthur had Bill when he was just twenty years old. And here, Percy was! He never even got to enjoy the shag.

"It's alright," Penelope said softly. "You know… Audrey… Audrey needs you around."

"What about what _I_ need?" Percy snapped at her. She was not very good at this comforting thing. He realised that he must sound arrogant to her, but what did he care? He was the only one that could care for himself, and he wasn't doing a good job of that either. He probably had degenerative heart disease from the stress of last year alone.

Penelope placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this job is very important to you—"

"You think this is _ABOUT A JOB?"_ Percy yelled. "She's having _a_ _bloody baby_ and you think that I'm put off by that

because I don't want it to ruin my chances with the Minister? What… what kind of person do you take me for?"

"I'm sorry," Penelope said, tears falling from her eyes. Why was _she_ crying _AGAIN?_ Oh, Merlin. "I'm so sorry."

When _SHE_ cried herself out, Percy got up and led her back to his flat. She ate his chocolate-chip pumpkin bread.

"What are you going to do?" by then, Penelope was calm. Now, she wasn't telling him off, or crying all over him.

Percy leaned against his table. He'd broken off a piece of that bread to feed to Hermes. During this time, he concluded that he'd rather have his owl be Audrey's obstetric healer than have Penelope anywhere near him ever again.

"I don't owe you an answer," Percy finally said. "And don't come to my flat ever again."

Penelope looked shocked to hear that. He didn't know why. She belittled him without hearing his arguments and then told him that Audrey was be pregnant. Then _SHE_ cried about it! Just like she cried about their break-up.

"But… I thought we were friends," Penelope reached over to squeeze his hand. "You need someone to talk to!"

She cleared her throat. "You're a good person, Percy. It's just you do these things… and they make me so mad. You lose your way so much sometimes. Like with your parents! That fight is ridiculous."

Why did it always have to be him that was wrong? Why couldn't he be right? Deep down, he might know that he was wrong, but he'd barely wrapped his head around the row that he had with his father. Now, he was having a baby in a few weeks. Bloody splendid. He was going to put it right next to his owl and magical toaster… _HIS BABY!_

"And why in Merlin's name would I talk to _you?_ So, I could try to keep _you_ together when Audrey is busy being inhabiting a foetus in her uterus? I most certainly do not need to take care of _YOU_ as well!" Percy yelled. "Maybe you could, yet again, let me know just how much of a horrible son I am! _I_ could only be a terrible father too!" he never thought he'd say that statement at least for a decade. He was eighteen bloody years old.

Tears were stinging in his eyes. When Penelope reached over to brush a tear, he pushed her hand it away.

"Get out of my flat," Percy ordered. He was not repeating himself. He saw Penelope nod her head, and slowly make her way to his door. He felt a great relief. She had multiple chances to say her piece as far as he was concerned.

"Percy," she looked at him. She looked worried. "You're going to be okay." No, he wasn't! She failed Divination!


	13. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 4

_the flashback sequence continues (up until Audrey's death). just my reminder that i'm not an English speaker, because i do know some people think 'this wording is awkward / this sentence doesn't make any sense / i don't know what's going on in here'. i'm sorry about that. i really do try to link things together. i think i have a very obvious image of it in my head but sometimes it doesn't show that way! i really hope it doesn't hinder your enjoyment of this fanfiction._

 _i have two mini plot bunnies in my head that i am seriously considering. one more than the other. as if this fanfiction needs more drama..._

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : to be fair, Penelope did break up with Percy. i think she's more likely to see his poorer attributes than his positive ones. and Percy doesn't really have any friends, so he just goes along with Penelope's statements. _

_**Guest** : it is a little cartoonish. i do imagine it like that in my head if it makes any sense? but i always think there's a part of HP that's cartoonish, like imagining flying mugs and nose-biting teacups. at least that's how it's like for me! to be fair, these chapters are all in Percy's point of view. of course, in Percy's head, it's always the world vs. Percy. but in reality, i did try to make a few arguments for other people's behaviour. but imagine you haven't talked to your brother in years, and find out through the papers that they've gotten married ages ago and never told you about it? or that they have children? in a really close family, i can imagine them feeling really betrayed. especially since i think Percy's family thinks that Percy thinks he's too good for them, i.e. Arthur makes Percy do insane amounts of work because he genuinely believes that if the Minister was someone other than Arthur, he'd do the work **and** more. in Arthur's head, he thinks that Percy's complacent with him because he doesn't respect him or what he stands for. but it's really hard to write this fanfiction in someone else's point of view (though i tried especially since the chapters are short-ish). especially Molly's backlash (she's always supported him, so to have him hide that much of his life from her is pretty insulting in itself, and she did forgive him.) Daphne also apologsies a lot / Mrs Rosenstein is very nice to him. but he is just such a negative character as a whole so writing in his point of view usually brings about his 'oh woe is me' monologue that i always use when writing him. as for the arrogance of Percy in HP, i do enjoy arrogant characters because i always think that that arrogance has to be overcompensating for something. like for example - as part of narcissitic personality disorder (a really far out example), they also have co-morbidities of anxiety / bipolar disorder. there is a subtype of NPD where people create the illusion of superiority to try and battle with their extremely low self-esteem. i think this is a certain coping mechanism (i forgot it's name but it's basically someone feels another way and act the complete opposite, e.g. hates himself but projects himself as narcissistic to try and cope with his feelings of insecurity). which is a rabbit hole because if that person really is insecure and acts like an arsehole, he gets this backlash where he gets this negative attention and it just perpetuates their feelings of inadequacy (if you understand what i'm saying. so it's kind of cyclical. which is why it's so easy to put this Percy in really awful situations!). i feel like if you just take out all of the self-loathing in this Percy's head, and put in just his dialogue, you'd think he thinks himself as very superior if you don't know what he's thinking (does that make sense?). as for Penelope / Percy, it's always really hard to write Penelope because she always morphs into someone that isn't that great when i write her (oops on my part). as for Divination Percy... i looked this up to be sure but he did get an O.W.L in Divination so he must be at least moderately good at it. i think he's really oblivious though, weirdly enough._

 _ **finkles89** : i feel bad for all the good characters i always portray so badly... oops!  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Ten: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 4

* * *

 **Things that Percy had excluded when retelling this part of the story** : the fact that he continued to work from home, eating bourbon biscuits for dinner (his mum would be furious), his deteriorating self-esteem and how absolutely terrified he was at the thought of having to take care of _twins_ by himself (that ruddy Sorting Hat would be laughing now, wouldn't it?).

* * *

Living with Fred, George and Ron, Percy saw a lot of things growing up. None of those things were a four-foot-eleven woman with the stomach the size of a Quidditch equipment set. There had to be at least three Bludgers in there!

"Hello," Percy was glad Audrey opened the door. "Again." Penny said baby, right? _Not_ Romanian dragon herd.

"Hello," Audrey was eying his clothes. He was wearing a white shirt with a pair of faded trousers. She wore the exact same thing, except she didn't look like a potion abuser that was going for a job interview at Fortescue's. "Again."

She let her hand wrap around her stomach, protectively almost. "I suppose you'd like to come in?"

What was she protecting _that thing_ from? A premature labour—which was warranted at this point? A six-foot-two bloke whose likely cause of death was 'healer didn't know he had dragon pox because he had so many freckles'?

"You must be a seer because you're… e-evidently correct!" Percy replied, stiffening up. "Well… um… can I come in?"

" _May_ you come in?" Audrey corrected him. Did he sleep with Professor Snape? "And… well, I suppose."

Walking into her flat, Percy felt her heart flutter a bit. This flat was so clean he could discern the different shades of white in the wall. He thought he nearly came in his pants, but he tried to keep it to himself.

 _His_ shade of white did not go with the rest of her flat. And had he not done enough damage already? His seven-month-old baby was already big enough to ride the Dangerous, Dreary Dragons ride in the wizarding amusement park that Percy used to go to when he was a child. Meanwhile, Audrey wouldn't nearly be tall enough!

"You can sit on the couch," Audrey told him, her back faced to him. Her table was made of _GLASS_. That wouldn't survive the Burrow for an hour before it ended up being a _portrait_ of glass. "I just fluffed the pillows."

Percy was astonished. _Fluffing the pillows!_ Who did she think she was? Fluffing the pillows! The last thing Percy fluffed was a temperamental Kneazle. He did it for three hours straight. "Thank you, Miss Audrey… Claire Brown."

That woman had the worst surname imaginable. She was so pristine she should apply for government to change it to Audrey White, or you know, Audrey I Don't Need Magic to Clean My Apartment. She didn't need an auto-clave either—on another note, yes, Percy's knowledge of muggles was limited to their cleaning devices and what a Terry's Chocolate Orange was. The only reason that Percy would think Brown was a suitable surname was when he remembered that Brown was one of the dullest names he could think of. And this woman was so dull that she could put _HIM_ to sleep. Merlin knew she should apply to be an animal healer!

He sat on the edge of the couch. Percy could just about sink into it and fall into a completely comfortable coma. If it wasn't for the fact that he was dangerously close to pissing himself from shock… well, he wouldn't leave the couch!

"Do you want any beverages?" Audrey asked, and Percy gawked at her behind. _That_ was larger than he remembered.

"Yes but…" Percy cocked his head. "I mean the normal _but_. I was not in any way at all thinking or referring to your behind! Nor was I just noticing… I mean… yes, anything. I would accept the beverage if you pour it into my lap."

"What are you talking about?" fortunately, Audrey did not realise that he was 'checking out her Quaffles' as Oliver Wood would say. She gave him a cup of tea that smelled like it could be toxic with the amount of milk she put in.

Just before he drank it, she said, "Bottom's up!" needless to say, Percy choked and burned his tongue.

She sat down next to him… well, actually there was at least fifteen packs of peppermint toads between them.

Audrey was also drinking a cup of tea. This was slightly concerning, as tea was a natural diuretic. He was sure that whatever was growing in her uterus was most definitely compressing on her bladder.

"This is nice. Us sat together like this…" Audrey said. It sounded forced. Oh, and he could barely be around her without turning into a portrait painter's red and pink palettes! How was he supposed to stand it when she pushed out a baby out of her five-stone body? "I don't know if you can particularly tell… but I'm seven months pregnant."

"Really?" Percy raised an eyebrow. "I'd need to bring my telescope over next time… you can hardly tell!"

"Do you know how to use one?" Audrey leaned against the couch. Percy wondered if his baby was a merfolk encasing itself into a Great Lake-sized bath of amniotic gillywater for proper gill efficacy.

"I suppose I do if you're bloody pregnant," Percy had been wondering the same thing. Penelope always said—

"I meant a _telescope_ ," Audrey said, and she was smirking at him. He flushed. Maybe they went together. If he ever married this woman, their wedding would be in shades of red roses and pink tulips. They'd look like Ashwinders in wedding apparel. The theme would be ' _Too Hot for You'_ and their baby would be prized for potion making.

"Yes," Percy nodded his head. "Would you like to try?" _Did he really just say that?_ He wished to be set on fire.

And the worst part was that she'd answered him! Forget his _Language of Dragons_ novel! What was _SHE_ thinking?

"I'm not sure. I've never tried it," Audrey replied. "Are you staying for dinner? I'm making spaghetti bolognese."

"I suppose?" Percy was so confused now. He was just visiting Audrey about her pregnancy. Oh, and was this a date? He should accept the date from the woman carrying his child, but he wasn't sure if he wanted a relationship. "I'm not sure if I want to date you… despite the fact that you're pregnant with my child."

"Date me?" Audrey reiterated. "I asked you if you wanted spaghetti bolognese… not a marriage contract!"

" _I_ never said anything about marriage!" Percy realised he really should marry her though. How could he have an illegitimate child? Him? Percival Ignatius Weasley breaking what was considered appropriate in society? "I simply mentioned an innocuous date… which I do not want now that I mentioned it. Though I shouldn't have."

Oh well, he didn't _always_ follow the rules. Yesterday, he ate his biscuits before his supper! _TWELVE_ bourbon biscuits from his biscuit tin! Well, the biscuits were his dinner so… he supposed that might cancel it out. Did he look like he had _time_ to cook? He thought, as he was looking at a heavily pregnant woman who was about to prepare a meal _from scratch_ after _fluffing her pillows_. Percy thought that _Holidays with Hags_ was a wonderful, suspenseful tale but that was nothing compared to the fact that Percy still hadn't figured out how this four-foot-eleven woman, carrying a baby that weighed more than her, managed to use the _TOP_ shelves of her kitchen?

"Of course, you don't, Percival," Audrey huffed. "Nobody downgrades from Shakespeare to Judy Blume!"

Percy wondered if that was how he sounded to others. He didn't understand a bloody thing she said.

"What in Mer—what _ARE_ you talking about?" Percy corrected himself. He did not see any books of any Arthurian legends covered in gold and kept in a plastic case around in her flat. He did not want to take his chances. Then it hit him like a flying Bludger to the head. "You… you think that you're inferior to Penelope? My _EX_ -girlfriend?"

"I had A*s in all my GSCE's," Audrey replied. "I don't _think_ anything, Percival. I _KNOW_."

Percy didn't know anything about muggles, but he was sure that Audrey just said something that was the equivalent of her mentioning she had twelve O.W.L's—or more, Percy rationalised. She'd invent more O.W.L's in her spare time.

"I've been waiting to tell you this since I've met you, Miss… Audrey Claire Brown," Percy wondered if floating in a Quidditch pitch felt like this. " _YOU_ are _SO_ wrong it's not even funny." Okay. Maybe it was hilarious. Just a little!

"What do you mean?" Audrey replied, raising an eyebrow. "I caught you staring at my—… _well_."

"I was _not_ staring at your arse!" Percy said. He most definitely was. "Oh. You mean…"

He reached forward and then placed his finger across the jagged line of her lip scar. This was even more intimate than them having it off again, he was pretty sure. It was the closest he'd been to anyone. Ever.

He let his hand drop and Audrey let out a breath that she'd been holding in. Was _that_ foreplay? Percy wondered.

"Oh," Audrey said. "Very well," she cleared her throat. "So, you're not staying over for dinner? As a friend?"

"I suppose I might," Percy replied. Then his eyes moved down to her stomach that he somehow forgot about. Oh, that was why he came over… Merlin, it was impossible to have a conversation with this woman without veering off track!

If this was a Hogwarts Express, he'd somehow end up smack in the middle of Austria with no money whatsoever the time this expedition was over. Did you know how unsanitary it was to give birth on a train? Sleep with this woman and she talked about the weather and her neighbours' flowers! Instead of talking about their fornication, she ironed his clothes—did a marvelling job by the way. Now, try visiting her when she hadn't told you she'd been knocked up for seven months! Apparently, she thought it was the best time to try and take your resume! _Can you use a telescope?_

Yes, Audrey, he could use a telescope. He still mapped out star charts. He wanted to ensure that if at any point in time, he got bitten by a rabid werewolf then he'd be able to dictate the phases of the lunar cycle.

"Yes, well, I've used a new recipe for the spaghetti bolognese," Audrey said. "I use carrot puree in my bolognese to—"

"Audrey, I'm sorry for cutting you off. That is very rude, but… can we discuss the giant baby in the room? The one that you're having because I'm a mindless twat?" Percy asked.

She pushed her glasses up, nodding her head.

"Well, the baby is…" Percy cleared his throat. "I-I… I didn't mean to upset you that night—and-and I really liked that loaf you sent me! I also have twelve O.W.L's—what did you call them? And how's… well, how's your job?"

He was not talking about the giant baby in the room. That was typical of him now, wasn't it?

"Alright," Audrey replied. "Firstly, there is no 'giant baby'." Really? There was nothing giant about her? Hagrid looked readier for his bikini body. "They are _babies_. They're small. There's not that much space for them to grow!"

Percy was sure that he was not hearing that correctly, so instead, he tried to wonder how much Dreamless Sleep potion he had yesterday before he went off to sleep. Evidently, it didn't work! Dreamless Sleep his dotty arse!

"Secondly, Percival, I am pushing out these babies and then _I_ will most probably never want to see them again in my life," Audrey told him seriously. "If you want them, then they are yours. If you do not, then they go straight into an orphanage. But they are nothing more than a mere inconvenience to me. They are making it hard for me to be able to stack books and I had to take time off my job, which is unheard of. I get winded often and have to lie down. I had to downgrade my strenuous exercise regimen to basic yoga and meditation as a recommendation from my obstetrician. I have to do a series of rather disturbing pelvic exercises because I refuse to get a Caesarean section done. Because Percival, our little rendezvous is not going to be the reason _I_ have another scar on my body thank you very much!"

Holy hippogriff. Percy did not want to talk about the giant baby in the room. What else did she use in her spag bol?

"I have absolutely no attachment to the babies growing in my uterus. My parents are furious with me. They think I should have this thing and nurture it and marry you so I don't have an illegitimate child but why would _I_ do that?" Audrey mumbled. Percy was amazed at the level of attachment she had to these babies—he'd practically have to claw her out of her hands when she gave birth. "I am very glad you contacted me about this now. I was going to send you a letter in the post this week, asking you if you want the babies, or if I can give them away. I mean it's only fair since you have a genetic claim to them. I… I have a thriving business and I do not want to waste my time on this nonsense."

Audrey then looked over at the mug in his hands. "Now, drink that!" she gestured to the cup. "That's cold now!"

His tea was not cold. Percy's tea burned the roof of his mouth because he was a twat. Some of the death tea was already falling on his lap, and he was about to break into tears. "Did you say _BABIES?"_

"Calm down, Percival, or I'm afraid that _you'll_ be giving birth on this couch!" Audrey yelled. _"I just cleaned it!"_

 _Your babies?_ Percy wished he had a Time-Turner right about now! "Babies?" he repeated. "As in… _plural?"_

He could envision himself weeks from now. Him and his seven children. Will, Marley, Marcy, Gred and Forge, Don, and Minnie. Percy was sure that this was how it felt like to be under the Cruciatus curse! Merlin… _PLURAL!_

"Do you want to keep them?" Audrey asked him. "Because if you don't, then… well, I'm not going to! I have A*'s in all my GSCE's! I am meant to be more than just anyone's housewife… which you do not want me to be anyway."

His hands felt very clammy and he felt like he was about to throw up. He should've said that he'd think about it, but the idea of two little babies that looked a lot like Ron and Ginny being tossed in an orphanage just—!

"Yes," Percy softly said. "Yes, I'll… I'll keep them… I-I-…I suppose." By the way, did they have a return policy?

Percy tried to calm down, but he felt like he'd just shook hands with a Dementor! He was gutted.

As he sipped his cup, Percy felt his heart sink into his stomach. He noticed three pregnancy books on the table! And worst of all? Her notebook was there and…— _she was making notes for the BABIES that she did not want to take care of!_

Meanwhile, he was still having a wobble and it was a week since he found out! And he didn't know if he wanted to have babies, but an… orphanage? Was she having a laugh? He wasn't going to send his children to an orphanage!

He didn't want to raise babies on his own either. Percy still remembered how it was like for his mum to practically raise Fred, George and Ron by herself when they were in that safe house! She spent _EVERY DAY_ crying and shouting!

Obviously, Audrey had her life together! And what she was doing for the next thirty days as evident by her calendar.

Percy didn't even know if he wanted to stay alive for the next thirty days, much less if he was going to return that 'blue top from H&M' that he didn't like because it was too small over his flat, almost caved-in abdomen.

Seven months that she had them living in her belly, and she didn't even ask the fellas for rent yet! Inspiring.

And now, in a few weeks, Audrey was going to push _HIS_ _BABIES_ out of her womb! She'd have to close up shop for the labour, which was probably irritating her! As her business was _'thriving'_. When Penelope told him about the pregnancy, he told her he couldn't take care of her _and_ Audrey… _HA_. What a joke! He could hardly keep himself together! Ever since he heard the news about her pregnancy, Percy had barely been able to sleep at all.

Yesterday, he received an owl from his father, asking him about why he wasn't in work _TODAY!_ Percy didn't know how to tell him that he worked from his flat, because he, the Gryffindor, was too cowardly to face what people were saying to his father about _HIM_ leaving the family! Disowning them! Thinking that… he was too good for them!

Percy didn't want to hear other people consoling his father and letting him know that he was a—Humongous Bighead!

Did that bloke sound like he was ready to have _babies_ live in his flat? Percy hadn't even unpacked his things yet!

Tomorrow, he would have to show up to the Ministry, and he was absolutely bricking that. How was he supposed to fare in a delivery room? He was the bloke that didn't want to face people because he was sick of being a constant disappointment. Honestly, he would much rather just stay in his flat forever. Plus, he didn't know where his Ministry robes were at anymore, and he genuinely looked like he'd been mangled by a mermaid!

How was Percy supposed to act smug around his father when he was busy wondering if his babies could make do without their mum breast-feeding them? Could his children make do with _just_ him? What would it be like for them if they grew up without a mum? What about in an orphanage? And if he did show up at work again, then how was he supposed to cut down his hours at the Ministry after the baby… _babies_ were born? Without it looking overly suspicious that he wasn't available twenty-four-second to answer the Ministry's two-am owls?

They might think he was a Death Eater! Or worse, a bent bloke working at a strip club. Not because he was homophobic, but because Fred and George might try to set him up! How was he supposed to say no to a nice bloke?

An hour later, Percy passed out on her couch. He slept for so long that he missed Audrey's spaghetti bolognese dinner. However, it didn't matter if he ate or not, because he was not pushing a baby out of his extended orifices.

When he woke up from his six-hour-long nap, it was three in the morning and he was still in Audrey's flat.

Instead of leaving like an adult, he did the most childish thing he could do. He buried his head into his knees, and he sobbed like someone just stole his rubber broomstick. The sounds that were coming out of Percy were absolutely pathetic. What was he going to do when he had babies? Just weep silently in the showers? How was he supposed to mature enough for babies in the next few weeks exactly? _How was he… he couldn't just… why couldn't_ — _TERRIBLE!_

After he gave himself a headache from thinking too much, he stared at the ceiling.

"Percival? Do you have to turn in your government job tomorrow?" Audrey was standing in front of him. She was in her pyjamas. He realised that she wanted to go to the bathroom. Ha. Percy knew that tea was a diuretic!

"I suppose," Percy sat up on her couch. She sat down right next to him. No peppermint toad packs between them—they were touching. Knee by knee. It was also extremely intimate.

Was this a date? He was so inappropriately dressed for one! And he didn't want one to boot.

"Percival?" Audrey called out again, and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, as he tried to take a deep breath. "Of course, I'll be seeing this through the end of this pregnancy at the very least… I can help you if you're feeling very nervous! _I_ had been investigating about this rather thoroughly."

"Yes?" Percy looked at her hopefully. He had a panic attack in his sleep he was sure. He was falling apart!

"Yes!" Audrey nodded her head at him. "I have a book about this!"


	14. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 5

_**comment replies:**_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising:** out of all the Audrey's that i've written so far, this one is my absolute favourite. because she is literally just Percy x10._

 _ **Guest** : yes, this Audrey is meant to be super similar to Percy... except she makes him look more lenient / lazy / less put together because she is a more extreme version of his personality. i am finally excited to say that i think i've answered all those questions (since i do have these pre-written. i just need to edit before updating that's it). this one will introduce her family (and Percy will meet them) and they'll be mentioned also in the next subsequent chapters. death scenes are always the worst and best for me to write because i always feel like they have to be super raw and emotional. so i always have to go over it 4-5 times to try and get the level that i feel is good enough to show that loss. i'm so happy that you're enjoying this story! and i love team 'put characters in terrible situations'. i have 2 really big plotlines i'm sort of thinking about which would destroy Percy i'm so excited about it. i just have to choose one that'll go with the rest of the things that i have in mind._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Fourteen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 5

* * *

Because he would not respond to any of her owls, Penelope Clearwater scheduled an appointment for him at one.

Truth was, if Penelope had a Y chromosome, he'd be able to keep this grudge for decades ( _see:_ Arthur Weasley).

Speaking of which, with the Weasley family curse being bestowed upon him, Percy wasn't shocked to know that neither of his twins had any Y chromosomes. Obviously, it was because Fred and George couldn't bloody share one! They didn't need different phalluses—what _they_ needed was a different brain! Finishing each other's sentences! Coming up with the same ploy to extort him because the last one wasn't humiliating enough! The suspicious fact that Fred didn't like custard cream fillings, but George _only_ liked the filling. It was _maniacal! Unfathomable! Eerily symbiotic!_

Percy was sure they were just seconds away from being conjoined… Gred and Forge in-bloody-deed. But fortunately, they had the sensibility to have their heads apart. As if they needed more reasons for other pureblood families to talk about them! Conjoined Fred and George, telling other respected families that they got them at a _two-for-one sale!_

Unfortunately, this led to Percy worrying about whether or not _his_ twins would actually share a brain.

He could envision it now. He'd been gloating about his O.W.L's so much that he bet he'd have stupid babies. Percy could imagine what people would say now… even between those two, they couldn't get a single O.W.L! And that was exactly why he got three hours of sleep last night! That, and he spent the night in Audrey's flat and… unfortunately, discovered how to use her telly. At two am, they both watched _Men Behaving Badly_ , eating fat-free whole-grain popcorn. The kernels were still stuck into his mouth and he left his wand at home. No wonder the British muggles were known for such bad teeth! He'd sprout tooth decay too if he had a Herbology greenhouse growing in his mouth.

He also read about all the organisms in the muggle mouth cavity. Well, as long as no berk tried to cross-contaminate muggle equipment with the wizarding populace, they wouldn't die of the bubonic plague. Caused by _RAT FLEAS_.

Oh, did he mention that he had a one o'clock appointment with Penelope? Because now, she was now standing in front of his desk, which was filled with paperwork. Penelope was wearing teal scrubs and hospital robes. With that hair and those dark bags under her eyes, she looked like she was protesting for the mermaid union. _I reject the being classification because I'm not a blood-sucking leech or a hag! I'd rather be known as a beast thank you very much!_

"Yes?" Percy said, raising an eyebrow. He was not doing paperwork right now. He was staring at the Ministry Munchies' offer of three pumpkin doughnuts, two pumpkin pasties and five pumpkin pie lattes.

"Hey, Percy," Penelope placed her hands by her sides. "It's me… Penny."

Percy took off his glasses. "Really?" he squinted. "Because I _really_ needed that introduction."

Penelope didn't laugh. She just looked down at her heels. This woman was over five-foot-eight without them, and now she towered over him. Those heels were so large and thick that it could be considered vampire hunting weaponry. It made a lot of sense, considering her current I-hate-vampires-I'm-a-beast mermaid status.

"Well… um… I… yes…" Penelope sounded like she just ate a packet of Ice Mice and came to talk to him. "You look—the… well, today in… I just… I've been thinking about—listen, Percy, that night that we… our fight is _SO_ —"

"I accept your apology," Percy said, and put his glasses back on.

"I just wanted to say that—" Penelope just stiffened and relaxed. "Thank you," she cleared her throat.

Her gaze went to a photograph of Audrey that he kept on his desk. At the time, she started using a new moisturiser that did not compliment her skin tone. Now, she looked like she'd been hexed with boils and acne. She scowled when he took that picture. She looked like a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. If they made meatballs the size of Puffskeins.

"Wow," Penelope was staring at the picture. In comparison, she was walking Amortentia. "You _really_ like her."

He also had a picture of Florean Fortescue on his desk, and he wasn't being accused of 'really liking him.' Although Percy did consider marrying Florean briefly in 1990, because he wanted a fifty percent discount on his Butterscotch Butterbeer Bonanza soft-serve ice-cream. A bonanza indeed. If he closed his eyes now, he could still feel his arteries harden more than Oliver Wood's… broomstick when Katie Bell was featured in _Witch Weekly's_ most recent issue.

Percy shuddered at the thought of Oliver's broomstick. He never used any kind of… polish! Ever!

"Of course, I like her. She's having my…" Percy's voice dropped to a whisper, _"pasties!_ Not Cornish… _pumpkin!"_

Penelope's eyes widened. _"GIRLS?"_ he heard quieter fifth years plotting to ask seventh years out to Hogsmeade.

His ears turned red. He then chose to spend three minutes rummaging through his desk where he had a box that required a Curse Breaker beyond the moderately experienced Bill's level. Inside were his not-really-girlfriend-but-not-really-mate's 'ultrasound pictures'. Percy didn't have them framed and put on his desk. Because… well, he had no excuse. Each of his twins had their own placenta! They would never be able to guess that it was his babies. Fred and George had to _share_ their bloody placenta _and_ amniotic fluid! Even babies, they didn't have their separate bathrooms.

"I'm glad someone's excited!" Percy said. "Audrey… doesn't want my pumpkin pasties!"

"Nobody likes that much… cinnamon in them," Penelope said, pointing towards his freckles. Percy glared at her.

"It's not an acquired taste," Percy mumbled. " _THIS_ pumpkin pasty has a _TWELVE_ star rating in _The Daily Prophet!"_

Percy refused to have the same filling as Fred and George, the two blokes that couldn't split a box of Exploding Snap cards between them because they had an odd number of playing cards. He was delicate and sophisticated. He was a pumpkin pasty that should be served at the Minister's parties—thin and elegant. True to his character, they tasted like sand. Fred and George were pumpkin pasties that Percy wanted to buy in the Ministry Munchies. Greasy, going to give you premature heart disease and delicious. Fred and George didn't have cinnamon. They had _sugar crystals_.

That was why the family never worked out. How was he supposed to compete with _sugar crystals?_

Last Percy checked, people forced themselves to eat a tablespoon of cinnamon to 'challenge' themselves because they couldn't challenge themselves like normal human beings and write Potions' essays for fun. Meanwhile, the nation was choking and dying of having too much sugar in their blood! Even the name itself, _die an' beat us_ the muggle disease!

"Nobody believes _The Daily Prophet!"_ Penelope said. "Especially when you see the same ad over and over again. We understand. It has twelve-star ratings—but somehow, it's just not being sold as frequently as it might suggest."

" _I'm_ not lowering down the price. It's cheap even for second-hand!" Percy mumbled. He used to settle for the thought of dating a horklump. Now, he might have to lower his standards to dating Marcus Flint.

By that time, Percy realised that the Minister had been standing there for some time, listening to him talk about second-hand pumpkin pastries to his one o'clock. During this time, he was usually busy, seeing how he could convince _The Daily Prophet_ that Dumbledore cheated on a game of chess a decade ago and it was never addressed.

"Mr Weasley?" Fudge cleared his throat. "I… If you're that hungry, you should take a lunch break."

The proudest moment that week was not finishing the report that had him stuck up for weeks, but rather the fact that when they went shopping for baby clothes, Percy bought onesies in shades of pink that would make Dolores Umbridge vomit. Truth be told, Ginny got the same clothes as the rest of them—yellow, and blue onesies. In fact, Ginny was about as feminine as Oliver Wood, who produced so much testosterone that he made most men look like women.

As pathetic as it sounded, Percy put the new pink onesies in his drawer to open and look at. His drawer, of course, needed three verification spells and a drop of an expensive, extremely rare ingredient he happened to have on hand. He bet Gringott's had less security measures and they weren't protecting a onesie that was cheaper than a night in with ex-Slytherin Prefect Gemma Farley. Talk about cheap thrills and inappropriate uses of feather quills!

Sometimes, Percy liked to pull the pink onesies out and take a long inhale. Because surely, his babies would smell like _that_ after they managed to turn their nappies into new samples of Fred and George's 'Norwegian fertilisers'!

Audrey spent her whole childhood being dressed in gaudy pink, and purple bows. She had no comment on this.

She, too, came from a large family. She had two sisters and three brothers. They seemed to visit her often enough—and for long hours. Percy only knew this, because he was not allowed in her flat when they were over.

Percy often eavesdropped on their conversation. If only he had a contraption that could make this much easier!

 _"Did you think of any names for the babies yet?"_ oh, so when her brother asked it, it was normal and endearing, but when Percy bought it up, _she_ practically scoffed him down for breakfast with a side of tea!

 _"So, this bloke is just going to take your girls away and you're alright with that? Because what do you really know about this bloke?"_ hey! Audrey wanted nothing to do with them!

Percy concluded that she had nice parents too. He'd never met them, but he couldn't really imagine a newbie Death Eater sending weekly care packages to their eighteen-year-old daughter after she got knocked up by a bloke they never met? Especially when said care packages had cards that said _baby, you're having a baby!_ and enough sweets to make Mr Flume sick. Percy felt a little unnerved finding out that Audrey threw the perfectly good sweets away because she didn't want to mother 'Willy Wonka' and 'Charlie Bucket.' Percy thought that mean something dirty! Willies anyone?

When she caught Percy digging into her room to find out the new bottles that she bought, Audrey was cold to him.

Her bookstore was something else entirely. Percy honestly thought it made Borgin and Burke's look positively sunny. It looked like it belonged in one of the tales of Beedle the Bard! Dark, gloomy and a perfect setting for a children's storybook lesson! Yet there was Audrey, of whose relationship he had yet to establish, stood by the counter with a scowl that could make Severus Snape shudder. She looked like she could bake him into a pasty.

Yet this was not nearly as disturbing as the fact that something was bothering her! Percy knew because last night, she was eating a box of _full-fat_ chocolate biscuits. That were _FROSTED_.

What kind of Dementors plagued his frien—… girlfri—… _um_ … Audrey's mind?

It seemed like everything was going well, _except_ for the occasional spiff about how Percy did not respect the schedule that she stapled to her fridge about her work hours… until… well…

One evening, Percy met Audrey's parents for supper. He was in a very compromising position, considering this was the point where Percy had transitioned into a non-vegetable-eating vegetarian with arteries that were harder than… well, he supposed him when he managed to sling one up Audrey Claire Brown! They were having their Sunday roast on a _Tuesday_ evening, which was sacrilegious and unholy. Percy felt like praying to Merlin just to correct this unholy sorcery. Percy bet that these were the same blocks that wondered why there wasn't any post on Sundays. And the same blokes that dared to open all their presents on Christmas Eve instead of the day! They were probably also the blokes that hadn't even bothered to cook their roast dinner for hours—just bought it from the shops!

Fortunately, Audrey's mum, Candace, slaved over a hot stove and managed to roast a duck. Roast it to the point where the duck looked like it had been tortured by a starving troll. It was a miracle she hadn't completely mutilated the potatoes either. Unfortunately, she cooked _everything_ in duck fat. Even the carrots, gleaming and glazed, reeked of animal lard. Percy did not drink the milk accompanied with the meal, least she tried to milk the duck too.

"Don't you like duck?" Candace looked offended. She jabbed a fat-free finger towards the duck, just in case he managed to never see a duck in his twenty years of living in a bloody farm in Devon.

"Candace works _very_ hard on her duck," Audrey's father, Jonathon Andreas Brown, said. He sounded defensive. Percy did not know he was going into court for not eating a bloody bird. "And her potatoes."

"I don't like potatoes," fourteen-year-old Theodore told Percy, as if he was excusing him for not eating them.

"Um…" Percy nodded his head. "I _do_ like ducks. Preferably whole… and, _err_ … alive."

Audrey sighed deeply, looking like she wanted to do to him what her mum did to the duck. "He's a vegetarian, mum."

Twenty-year-old Dominick snorted. "Audrey! I love how you didn't say anything about _that_ whilst mum was making supper, but you went on and on about how he doesn't know how to use a bloody microwave?" Percy's ears went red. He used the microwave twice, but then the second time, the microwave started to spark, and it looked like it was about to challenge him to a duel. "And what about when he found out about the mysterious object called _the telly_? It's like he's living under a bloody rock! Or in an old tribe of redheads! Or in a farm in the middle of nowhere! You know, those farms where all they do all day is wake up at the crack or arse and feed the clucking chickens." Dominick did not say _clucking_ , but Percy chose to remember it as that for his own sanity.

Percy stiffened and his cheeks coloured even redder. "I _do_ live in a farm in the middle of nowhere," he whispered.

"Well, there's potatoes!" Candace looked like she wanted to cook him too. "And—that _salad!"_

Potatoes and salad. That was all everyone fed him with. He'd eaten enough potatoes to stave off another Irish famine for Merlin's bloody sake. Percy cleared his throat and shook his head. "Err… _not_ if they're cooked in duck fat."

"Jonathon!" Candace glared at her husband. "Go get something for our guest to eat!"

Jonathon looked like he didn't know what was vegetarian apart from baked beans, and rocks.

Concerned that Percy might starve before he met his daughters, Audrey's father—one Jonathon Andreas Brown, decided to pop right round the corner to the most exotic chippy they had in a feat to feed him.

Audrey's flat was sparkling and spotless. The Brown family household was… _not_.

In fact, it looked sort of shoddy and forgotten—with cracked doors, and allergy-inducing rooms that smelled of sulphur and stone. There were heaving pots that were dirtier than the rubbish bins in his flat. The pillows were _not_ fluffed. Whilst the kettle was brewing whilst they were waiting for Jonathon to return, half the tea spilled everywhere.

The bread they had there was so stale it could possibly be something Bill unearthed from a tombstone.

Percy hated the house. It reminded him of the Burrow. It was the kind of place someone would call a home, especially with its Toilet of Terror (suspiciously enough, not touched by neither Fred nor George) and half-dead shrubbery.

The carpets looked skewed, and there was a cosiness and warmth that chilled Percy to his very bones.

It took Jonathon ten minutes to get a meal for him. It then took him seconds to shove a plate of chips in front of Percy.

It was a monstrous thing—chips that were so chunky that Percy probably needed two hands to pick just one up. He hadn't seen this much grease since he'd been a student in Snape's Potions classroom for Merlin's sake. And to boot, the whole plate was covered in _layers_ of cheese. More sodding layers than his mum made him wear in the holidays.

"There!" Candace grated another layer of cheese on top of The Dairy Dungeon. It looked like something that Percy would expect to find for food at the Three Broomsticks Inn… after he was hammered. "That should fill you up."

"Or _out!"_ Audrey looked worried for him. "Mum… he barely eats! I… I-I assure you that he's far too busy pitying himself to have much of an appetite!" Percy did not know that she knew this much about him.

"Nonsense!" Candace yelled back. "This is a perfectly healthy portion." Healthy for a mountain troll maybe!

Percy just hoped they didn't bake a cheesecake for pud. "Thank you, Mr and Mrs Brown."

Audrey had three brothers. Theodore was fourteen, Dominick was twenty, and Harvey was nineteen. She also had two sisters, Sophia and Valentina. Sophia was seventeen and Valentina was fifteen. Sophia and Valentina were tall with a face that could put _Witch Weekly_ models to shame. They had bodies that were moulded from a portrait artist's dreams. Harvey looked like he was carvey-ed out of diamonds. However, Theodore and Dominick looked closer to the Bloody Baron's long-lost twins the splitting images of Gilderoy Lockhart.

And Audrey… well, Percy didn't know when that pregnancy glow was supposed to set in. He supposed he could say that she was _glowing_ , as she stabbed her duck seven times. She must be livid that she didn't get to murder it herself.

"Isn't it nice for us to have this dinner together?" Candace said. Her voice was faker than the sweeteners that Mr Flume used in his new no-sugar Ice Mice. Next to her, Sophia and Valentina looked like piles of dragon dung. She was glowing more than Audrey's toilets after that twenty-four-hour vomiting bug that Percy contracted three days ago.

Everyone else stayed quiet, and Percy found himself staring at his chips as if they'd come to life.

Candace cleared her throat. "So… _PERCY!"_ she said. As she spoke, her bosom bounced with energy. It was particularly disturbing. "I've heard so much about you!"

Percy had yet to say a word because he was worried that Audrey was going to strangle her dead, cooked duck.

Audrey cocked her head to one side. " _When_ did that happen?" she asked. "Because I haven't said a bloody—"

 _"WELL!"_ Candace cut Audrey off immediately. "I can already tell that I'm going to grow very fond of you, Percival!"

Percy's cheesy chips looked like they might explode out of its container if he tried to eat them. "I'm fondue you too."

Audrey looked like she wanted to strangle _him_ instead with that terrible joke. Percy believed it was warranted.

"She told me that you work in the government!" Candace finally said. Percy resisted the urge to ask her if she wanted a gold star for remembering that. "That's very exciting! Isn't that right, Jonathon? It's _exciting_."

Percy was unnerved. "Pardon me, but am I missing something here?" he asked, wondering why he wore his best trousers tonight. "Because this is an unusual reaction to someone who unintentionally copulated with your daughter."

Percy turned redder than the Leicester that he was supposed to be eating. "Not… that she was… _um_ —lacking in—"

Jonathon started to choke on his duck. Percy also resisted the urge to tell him about his rewarding vegetarian lifestyle.

"Dad, _how else_ did Audrey get pregnant?" Theodore asked. "It's not exactly like a wizard appeared right before her and got her pregnant with his magic wand." Percy's _magic wand_ was exactly the reason they were in this mess!

Dominick immediately smirked. "Depends on what wand he used."

Pretty-faced Harvey looked disgusted, staring at Percy's food. "Mum, you shouldn't feed our guest too much dairy. He could get _bloated_ ," he said with a face of horror. "And it could make his skin breakout!"

Too-thin Dominick glared at his brother. "I'm sure, horse-face here doesn't give a shit."

"Dominick, this is our _guest!"_ Jonathon told him hotly. Duck flied everywhere—not that the flying or the migration would help him now that he was roasted blacker than a cauldron. "You better behave yourself."

Dominick nodded his head. "Oh!" he said. "Like _he_ behaved himself when he knocked up your eldest daughter?"

Audrey stared over at her brother with a hard expression. "You _do_ know that two people are required to make a child now, don't you?" she talked to him in such a condescending manner that he went red. "I did not bring Percival over for supper so that you could threaten him! And I most definitely don't need your protection either!"

"If you had protection, you wouldn't be in this sodding mess!" Dominick yelled.

"He's right!" Harvey said. His plate consisted of one, miniscule duck breast with peas. Percy felt hungry just looking at it. "Just think of all the _stretch marks_ you'll have after! Do you know how bad lack of sleep is for your health? I can't imagine you'd be sleeping much with _two_ babies—you'll look even worse than you do now!"

"The stretch marks would be the least of her problems!" fifteen-year-old Sophie supplemented. "You know, at least before, she was thin. Now, she has to rely on her personality to catch _anyone's_ attention—"

Percy's heart hammered in his chest. "I refuse to sit here and listen to you disrespect the mother of my children!"

"Does anyone want more gravy?" Candace squeaked out.

Dominick laughed and then stood up from his chair. _"DISRESPECT HER? WHO GAVE YOU THE BLOODY RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT DISRESPECTING HER?"_ he yelled hotly, his emaciated hands shaking. "Coming from the bloke that is _TAKING AWAY_ her children! From the bloke that bloody well _REFUSES_ to marry her!"

Percy felt like he'd just been slapped by his mum's wooden spoon.

Take away her children! Percy tried to digest the notion. Did he look like he, the vegetarian that refused to eat duck fat, was stealing the babies to eat? Did he, the big bad redhead that lived in the farm, was going to use them as slaves?

"Dominick! I taught you better than that!" Candace looked appalled. Percy never understood this, because it looked like she'd had a go at it a few times. Molly wanted a _girl._ Percy didn't know what Candace was looking for, but you'd _think_ she'd found it with the fifth baby! "We have a _GUEST_ tonight and you should be on your best behaviour!"

"That is his best behaviour, mum!" Theodore tried to reason with her. "He hasn't hurt him yet!"

"Why is he a guest, mum?" Dominick challenged. "This morning, you said we should treat him like _family_."

 _Really?_ Percy raised an eyebrow. He'd never met this people! How did she come to that conclusion? What kind of impression did they have of him? That he was willing to donate his kidney to anyone that might need it?

"I only said that because…because…!" Candace's eyes darkened. " _UGH!_ "

"I—I didn't know about this!" Jonathon looked as surprised to hear about this as Percy. "Did you really threaten to take away my daughter's babies from her hands and _then_ you come into my house for supper?"

Percy felt a betrayal sitting in the pool of his stomach. Was this really what Audrey told her family about him?

Jonathon grabbed Percy by his arm and then tore him from the dinner table. At least he could say that dinner with the Browns wasn't as dull as it seemed. He was practically dragging with excitement! " _GET OUT_ of my house!"

"But he's our guest," soft-spoken Theodore looked alarmed. "It's rude to throw our guest out in the middle of dinner!"

Audrey sprinted from her seat and managed, with a gigantic belly and two-inch high heels that did not make her particularly tall, to get to the door before Jonathon and a very reluctant to leave Percy.

"Father, please!" she spread her short arms so that she was blocking the door. "Percival… let me explain!"

" _PLEASE?!"_ Jonathon bellowed out. "Please what? He has you begging for him now, has he? This useless…selfish…"

Percy deflated against Jonathon's grip. _She_ lied about him, and he was the one that was getting his veins ripped out by a six-foot-five man that reeked of shoe polish, cologne and amorphous dairy products.

 _"LET HIM GO!"_ Audrey screamed at her father. "You're hurting him!" Percy didn't even notice how blue his arm was getting, and barely took notice of the pain in his arm. He just felt nauseated and his heart ached.

"Why are you _TAKING AWAY_ Audrey's babies from her?" Candace joined in as well. Merlin! What a family. "Do you know that it's a crime to steal babies from sweet mums-to-be, like my daughter? Mr I-Have-A-Job-In-The-Government? I can take it to court, you know! I know that my Audrey might be soft-spoken, but that doesn't give you the right to-to ruin her chances at being a mother!"

Percy's head was spinning. He looked at Audrey, who was now red-faced. _SOFT-SPOKEN!_ Audrey?

"Yeah!" Theodore agreed. "We can take it to court! You… shouldn't throw guests out in the middle of their dinner!"

Sophia looked annoyed. "Of course!" she rolled her eyes. "Audrey gets pregnant and now, wants to be a mum!"

" _LISTEN!_ He works in the government!" a panicky-looking Harvey mentioned. "He probably has all the connections to… you know! He can probably take this house too if he wants! And then where are we going to live? Huh? Do you know how much my beauty products cost? Do you know that this face doesn't come for _FREE?"_

Percy's head was pounding. And to think that just a year ago, he wrote reports about cauldron bottoms!

"A scrawny bloke like that…" Dominick walked over to him. "I say we show him what's what!"

Before Percy could digest that, Percy felt Dominick's fist collide with his jaw. Percy rocked backwards, in a confused daze. Okay. _That_ was more what he expected from this visit! But how did this skeletal bloke manage to give Percy a concussion from hitting his _jaw?_ His head felt cold and numb.

"Dominick!" Harvey looked like he wanted to cry. "This is a lawsuit just waiting to happen!"

"I don't care!" Jonathon's voice pierced through Percy's throbbing head. "Get him out of my house!"

Dominick shook his head. "He slept with _MY_ sister, and then wanted to take _HER_ babies! _BOTH_ of them!" he yelled with rage. "At least have the decency to bloody share, you fucking twat!"

Percy rubbed his aching jaw. _"Um…"_ at least now, he had an excuse not to eat his fried chips for dinner. He'd be worried that his jaw might fall off. "There—there… seems to be a misunderstanding!"

"Yes, there is," Jonathon said. "This dinner was a big mistake!"

"We're going to take this to court!" fourteen-year-old Theodore said again.

Candace was silent. Valentina must really love duck, because she was on her third portion of it!

He just broke out of Jonathon's grasp and sprinted away from the backdoor of the house towards the front door. He glanced at a quiet Audrey, who looked like she was almost guilty. Fat good that did him.

Percy hugged his tattered-looking jacket. If he had the power to repossess people's houses, you'd think that he'd go to a gorgeous dinner wearing something other than ratty-looking loafers that looked like they'd been chewed out by a pack of wolves. His best trousers that he had were plaid and smelled like mothballs.

But at least his dark blue button-down and dark purple-and-black sweater vest now matched his black-eye!

As Percy walked down the road, he placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. And like the fool he was, his heart ached as he felt for that stupid, velvety ring box.


	15. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 6

_**comment replies:**_

 _ **Son of Whitebeard** : cutie xx_

 _**Phoenixx Rising** : would you believe me when i say it's going to get worse? _

_**Lover of Percy** : my fanfictions are purely trying to see how much weird crap and relationship dysfunction i could compact into one family / romantic relationship. i can't decide which is more dysfunctional either, but they definitely love Audrey despite it all and vice versa (with Percy and his family)._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Fifteen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 6

* * *

There were many things you expected the girl carrying your babies to say the day after her brother punched you in the face. Things such as _sorry_ , _how are you feeling?_ and _don't worry, we're shipping him off to Azkaban tomorrow!_

When Audrey opened the door to let Percy wander in, the first thing she said was, "We should get married."

Audrey said it with the same air of interest as having a muggle colonoscopy. It was approximately two weeks since he found out that she was having a baby! The Minister gave him the day off work, because Percy also managed to _misspell a whole word_ in a very important report. The Minister was afraid Percy might be dying of scarlet fever.

Percy was trying to make sense of what happened last night all morning! Why did they think that they think that he was taking Audrey's babies away? Why did they think he was a monster? Why were they eating _duck_ in this weather?

His black eye now faded into a mix of lavender and blueberry. Dare he say, he looked good enough to eat!

"Percy?" Audrey's voice was soft. "I… I said that I believe that… we should get married," she reiterated.

She said it _again!_ Percy rubbed his head. Maybe that punch must've knocked his big head right out of his skull!

"Well, Audrey," Percy's tone was bitter. " _That_ mightn't be possible with all the lawsuits your family has against me!"

Audrey stared at him with a first-year-caught-stealing-out-of-Snape's-office look, but then relaxed. She'd avoided talking about the Duck Disaster for approximately eight hours now. Percy was surprised that she even let him in her flat. For Percy might steal _her oven!_ Why not? He'd already stolen the buns in them, might as well take the oven too!

"You don't understand, Percival," Audrey said. "I didn't—"

Percy's shoulder slumped. "You didn't want to tell them that you don't want to get married or have any children."

She looked surprised that he came to that conclusion. Apparently, to her, he was obviously stupid. If Fred and George were there last night, even they'd be able to come to that conclusion! Did she really think that she was _that_ complex?

"No," Audrey stiffly said, pouring a cup of tea. It smelled _sweet_. She didn't fluff her pillows this week. "I don't."

"So, you told them that _I_ didn't want to marry you?" Percy asked, feeling his anger bubbling in his veins. He trusted her enough that he wouldn't betray her person like this! "That I wanted the children _for myself?_ That… I dared to _threaten_ you? That I told you that I would not let you see them and that I would threaten their safety and security if _they_ _dared to intervene?_ Because I… have an important government job? Did I get this right, or am I the still a fool?"

Audrey stayed silent. She opened her biscuit tin to stare it. At least Mr Flume would be proud of that assortment.

"Well, you said that-that you work in the government!" Audrey stuttered. "It wasn't that…strange to presume that—"

 _"AUDREY, I WRITE REPORTS!"_ Percy cut her off. "I write terribly lengthy, boring reports! I… I'm the scapegoat! The pawn! When I'm done for the day, I get my superior supper and buy his wife flowers! _I'M_ a glorified secretary!"

The thought that her parents believed that he threatened her made him sick. And she _allowed_ them to think that!

"I really am the fool," Percy said finally. "For believing that there was a part of you that was human."

He regretted it the second that he said it, but she did not even flinch. She stared at him with glossy, apologetic eyes.

"Mother wanted to be nice to you," Audrey said. "Just so, you'd… be nicer to me. Because she wasn't sure what you can do, and she wanted to make sure that— _um_ … everyone was safe. My father and brothers wanted to massacre you, and… my sisters really don't care about what happens to me I suppose."

"Safe?" Percy reiterated. "Safe against what? _ME?_ _I'm_ as threatening as an encyclopaedia! What am I going to do? _Bore_ them to death with my recently published sixty-page paper on the legislations of imported produce in the market?"

Audrey rubbed her arm. "I'm trying to make it right," she offered.

"Yes! You are!" Percy was dumbfounded. "So, your solution is to 'convince me' to _get married_ to you, just because _your_ _family_ wants you to have legitimate children? And you want to marry me to assure them that I will not repossess their house since I work for the stone-cold government, doing very important and secretive… government things!"

He couldn't repossess a small marshmallow cart in Diagon Alley if he tried!

Percy's facial expression hardened. "Wouldn't they be afraid that I'd be cruel to you? Since _I'm_ so terrible!"

"I can convince them that I can handle myself around a _cold arsehole_ like you," Audrey said in a joking tone. But he didn't find it funny, and he was not laughing. "We'd keep our same arrangement. Um… you don't have to lie."

Percy's eyes were cold. "You'd honestly let your family think all those terrible things about me?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" Audrey said. He felt like they'd reached an impasse. "Who cares if they never like you, Percival!"

Percy was stunned silent. No, they were not in a relationship. He didn't _need_ her family's approval. But he wanted it.

"Why should I keep up with this charade?" Percy asked. "This is absolutely ridiculous. Just tell them _THE TRUTH!_ That the only reason that _I'm_ taking care of our children alone is because you have absolutely no interest in being a part of any structure or formality that imparts _any_ kind of responsibility towards you! Instead of-instead of giving them this fake story about how I'm a government official that is able to tear down churches in his sleep!"

"Because _I_ don't want to end up miserable and alone like _YOU!"_ Audrey told him very seriously. "I _WANT_ my family! And I would never do anything to-to destroy the integrity of what I have with them!"

Percy's heart was hammering in his chest, as she looked away from him. He felt it sinking into his chest.

"Penelope told me," Audrey finally said. "She told me what-… about the fight! That you left them for _your job."_

Percy knew Penelope and her stance on the fight. She did not say anything redeeming about him. And to be completely honest, Penelope wasn't entirely wrong about the things that she might've said.

"Who slams the door in their mum's face?" Audrey muttered in annoyance. "You did, didn't you?"

Percy just stared at her. "You could've asked me about it." He concluded right then and there that she didn't care about what _he_ thought. He was getting two little girls out of this! He wanted the babies! He should work for them.

Audrey said nothing for a little while. She inched closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"I… I thought about it logically," Audrey's voice was stern. "A marriage contract is _not_ a life-sentence! You practically come to my flat every day for a course on the ideal proportions of water to formula milk. _Plus_ , you get a guaranteed six-month supply of my breast milk once it comes to fruition! Nothing really has to change in our arrangement except that it has official titles! I-I… wouldn't have to quit my job. You can spend ninety-five percent of the time with… these disgusting animals that I am pushing out of my uterus _for you!_ This is a reasonable partnership!"

Percy looked at her with as much emotion as a rock. "Is this what you think of me?" he asked.

Did she really think that she was pushing two babies out of her uterus _for him?_ Did she really think that that was a _reasonable partnership?_ Muggle abortion had been legalised since 1967, so Percy wondered why she didn't just abort the bloody things if she hated them so much! If she thought of them as disgusting animals! She'd went through seven months of this and hadn't to contact him because she believed that he wasn't particularly interested.

"Maybe you should leave," Audrey let her hands drop to her sides. "So, you can contemplate this a while longer."

Percy felt like his soul was crushed. He stared at her face—down from her shining eyes to the tiny lip scar that she shied away from every single time that he stared at it. She did not shy away this time. She was _wrong_.

"And if I reject, then you're just going to have to give them away?" Percy said coldly. "As your courageous act!"

"Percival, please," Audrey's voice was soft.

"I believed you," Percy swallowed the lump in his throat, and then stared at the door. "I thought better of you."

He could still hear the door slam ringing in his ears even hours after he'd apparated away from her apartment.

Percy hadn't seen her for two days, which was the longest that he'd gone without seeing her since he'd known she was furthering the Weasley family name. Then, he decided to come visit her on the third day. Because a waiting game was a dangerous game to play with a woman that had the stomach the size of the second floor of the Ministry of Magic. Any moment now, the Quaffle could explode all over the field before Percy would have time to even consider going after that blasted snitch! Merlin, no wonder Percy had never played Keeper—he couldn't keep a mermaid in water!

Percy just happened to visit Audrey on the many days where her very large family was crammed in front of the telly in her tiny flat that smelled of cleaning products and antiseptic. Her new carpet was dreamy and soft… how dare she!

"Percy," Audrey said his name softly. "Oh," she placed a hand on her swollen belly. "I didn't expect you."

Candace looked over from the couch. Her tight white dress managed to flaunt her Bludger-sized breasts, that did not look like breasts but rather more like something that belonged to a Madam Primpernelle advertisement. After it had been magically touched up by a dozen or so wand manipulators. _"YOU!"_ she said, with about as much rage in her voice as Penelope had when he tried to tell her that there was no difference between cottage pie and shepherd's pie.

"His name is Percy," Audrey said stiffly. "And I'm… I'm going to…"

"Marry me?" Percy cut her off, surrendering to his fate.

 _"Marry me?"_ he gave her credit. It sounded like Audrey had never even heard of the idea before!

She looked at him, surprised at what he'd just said. As if she expected him to refuse. But she was right—nothing had to change about their arrangement except for the fact that it had official titles. Percy thought the traditional husband and wife construct would be the best for their growing daughters. Though he didn't know how to explain to them that their mother had about as much interest in them as Fred and George did in finishing their Hogwarts' education.

"Marry _HIM?"_ Candace looked enthralled. "Do you really want to marry that monster?"

When she said that, it was like the world stood still. Percy's heart hammered into his chest so fast that it was all he could hear. But now, Audrey looked like she'd just realised what she'd been asking him to do all along. He wondered why it took her so long for someone that read so many bloody books!

"He's not a monster, mum," Audrey said softly.

"What do mean a man that wants to take away your—" Candace was shimmering with rage.

Audrey cut her off. "Yes, well, I just… I don't want…" she rubbed her belly. "Do you understand?"

Candace cut her off. "You don't want to have any children," she realised. She looked over at Percy, but he didn't feel much better. In fact, he just wanted to leave—preferably to drink himself to death. "Sweetheart, do you think I won't love you if you don't want to have children…? For someone that reads so much, you can be _so_ dumb sometimes!"

Audrey surely didn't appreciate that. "Pardon me?" she wrapped her arms around her chest. "I don't agree!"

Percy smiled a little, and he squeezed Audrey's shoulder.

Candace was laughing. Her laugh irritated him. "Do you really work in the government?" she asked.

"I do work in the government," Percy told Candace. "But I certainly have no powers to repossess anything. I work a desk job! My… my job is to do the things that other officials do not particularly want to do."

Audrey nodded her head. "He had to pick up his boss' laundry yesterday at nine." Percy's ears went red.

"No!" Candace shook her head. "You get _paid_ to do that? Well, _I_ do that in my house for free!" Condescending cow.

"Yes, well… lucky me!" Percy muttered. He did not mention the other hundred things that he did during the day.

Percy wished he could cook her like her roast duck! She made it sound like what he did didn't kill him on the inside every time he did it. He had more qualifications than three-quarters of the Ministry! And here he was, wasting his life away at a job that didn't appreciate him. At the time, like the fool that he was, he didn't think it could get any worse.

"Percival, we should _still_ get married," Audrey surprised both her mum and him. Percy… didn't feel like this was a real marriage proposal. "But our prior terms are still applied…well, I suppose you could—you could move in too. It'll make breast feeding them more efficient. And I _did_ promise you a generous six-month supply."

Percy's cheeks coloured in. Um… did he accidentally just pre-order Audrey's breast milk?


	16. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 7

_i tried to edit this chapter but i'm very tired, so please overlook any mistakes i might've not noticed on the re-editing._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Sixteen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 7

* * *

Percy felt about as petrified as he did in his sixth year when Penelope Clearwater turned to basilisk bait. He did envision many times that he'd be married to a woman purely due to a business contract—but mostly as a diplomatic and courageous movement by him as the British Minister— _not_ because he had fertilised a fervent bookkeeper!

He moved in her flat and felt an aching hole in his heart where his ability to rationalise used to be. Wonderful. He'd been out-rationalised by a woman that believed that tuna sweetcorn toasties were better than cheese and tomato ones!

This morning, Percy had a banging time trying to decipher Audrey's bus pass whilst he was taking a piss.

After that, he tried to chew on some of the sweets that Audrey had in her medicine cabinet in the kitchen. Percy had been looking for Pepper-Up Potion but instead found white sweets that tasted like regurgitated crup vomit.

"Percy, _what are you doing?"_ Audrey asked when she saw him chewing the tablet. " _You_ don't have even have a uterus!"

Percy looked down at the tablets, and then felt confused. "I have to have a uterus to eat sweets?" he said in confusion.

"Those are _NOT_ sweets!" Audrey stared at him like he was mad. " _THOSE_ are the pills I took to try and abort these things that have taken residence in _MY_ uterus that—…well, they didn't work now, did they?" Percy went white.

He didn't consider that Audrey actually tried to do it. Though he wondered why she hadn't… Apparently, she had!

"You tried to… _get rid of them?"_ Percy asked softly, his chest aching. _"Alone?"_

It made him feel ill to think that she went to the chemist by herself. That she felt frightened and unable to ask for help.

"Yes," Audrey said softly. She turned to throw the tablets away into the rubbish bin. "And despite being as knowledgeable as I am—I was under the impression that if you bleed after taking the pill then _that_ means it's gone!"

Percy stayed silent. "Audrey, I wished that you would've…" he wished he'd have kept coming back to her flat!

"What do you wish?" Audrey cocked her head to one side. "That I was more sentimental?" she scoffed.

"Hardly," Percy had no right to think that she should be sentimental to—what was at the time—just a clump of cells.

Audrey's face contorted into something unfamiliar—she looked… relieved. "Really?" she asked softly.

"You are eighteen years old, Audrey," Percy reminded her. "You've barely left school as it is—well, with top marks no doubt! But if you were ecstatic about bringing together new life into the world now with a bloke you don't know anything about then…well, _I'd_ have thought you were mad!"

Audrey's face softened. "Oh," she said softly, and then she flushed. "I… well, that's a… _um_ —…"

Percy could not believe that he'd left Audrey Claire Brown speechless. "Yes?" he asked softly.

"It's just…! Well, do you know how small a baby is at twelve weeks?" Audrey asked. "It's about two inches long and weighs only half a ruddy ounce! I wasn't aware I was supposed to be sat in a blood bath for it to have worked!"

Percy tried to imagine this four-foot-eleven girl that just came out of school trying to abort a baby _by herself_. Shocking.

"Really, Percival! Imagine my surprise when my obstetrician told me that some woman spot and bleed through after the pill and still have the baby—or in my case, _babies_ ," Audrey shook her head, like she still couldn't believe that it happened. Even with her stomach the size of that Viktor Krum. "Just imagine my absolute _JOY!_ Apparently, the pills I took have a 95% success rate, but-but… _I'VE_ managed to be part of the minority group!"

Percy slowly nodded his head. "You've only tried it once?" he asked softly.

Audrey shook her head. She looked almost ashamed and doll-like with her oversized dressing gown and soft cheeks.

She sighed deeply. "After the pills, I made an appointment for a D&C," she said. Dilation and curettage—Percy discovered later on with his muggle-to-wizard dictionary. "But on my way to the D&C, I saw this woman sat in one of the rooms, crying—screaming really! And then I'd overhead the nurses say she'd had _ten_ miscarriages—apparently, the poor woman not only miscarriage on her eleventh pregnancy but she didn't miscarry the whole baby the first time around! In fact, she had to have an instrument stuck up her uterus just to get _whatever was left_ of her baby out…"

She shook her head, and Percy suddenly felt extremely claustrophobic in Audrey's kitchen.

"How in God's name was I supposed to _purposefully_ _abort_ the bloody things after that!" Audrey asked seriously.

"I don't know," Percy replied, and then watched her face twitch at the thought. "Audrey, I'm… sorry."

" _I'm_ sorry," Audrey said, and hers even sounded much more genuine. His apology sounded like a second-hand quill cut in half but hers sounded like a phoenix quill from Scribbulus Writing Instruments. "I… misjudged you. I just assumed that you wouldn't—have… wanted to be involved. I just… I was under the assumption that…"

Audrey reached over to feel for the misshapen, crooked scar at the top of her lips. It looked drearier every time Percy looked at it for a second. He'd honestly seen prettier corpses after they'd started rotting!

"Well, I… I just _assumed_ ," Audrey said. "Percival, I… there is one thing that I… I'm frightened to say."

Percy hated seeing Audrey this vulnerable. She looked her age, which made him feel like _he_ was out of his depth!

"I've not been to my obstetrician since… well, probably for three or four months now!" Audrey admitted.

It was Percy's turn to be lost for words. _"What?"_ he was wondering why he seemed to be missing Audrey's appointments. He just assumed that because he'd been working during the time, or Audrey hadn't had the time to tell him about them—he had entirely forgotten about the fact that Audrey would _not_ skip a few hours of work to just to go and gush about her due dates with other women!

"Do you know how many shipments I've been getting in?" Audrey asked. "I'm sure you're aware that I have a job!"

She also wanted to get married in that blasted shop! Percy imagined You-Know-Who's dungeons was a lot nicer.

 _"Miss Audrey Claire Brown!"_ Percy was trying to ignore the fact that a four-foot-eleven woman that carried five stones of her weight in her belly thought that an appropriate use of her time was climbing a trembling ladder in her bookstore. A store that was dustier than the second-hand broom Percy got for his twelfth birthday! "This is… _most_ inappropriate!"

"We're past the point of inappropriate after you've made me lose feeling in my genitals!" Audrey reminded him.

Percy sighed in exasperation. This woman would be the death of him—of course, if he'd known then what he knew now four years later, he'd have revoked his statement. Apparently, _HE_ was the death of her…

"Can you make an appointment?" Percy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Audrey."

"Fine," she said. "Next week!" _Next week?!_ Percy stared at her. He wasn't even sure if she'd make it to next week!

In fact, he was due to get married to this woman in only a couple of _days_ after she decided they should get married _. That_ was precisely why Audrey insisted they have their ceremony in her Goth-attracting, bondage-inspired bookstore! Percy was honestly surprised he'd not seen any whips or chains in that house of horror yet. At the moment, he had the same anticipation as he did at five-years-old, wondering if they were about to hop to their next bloody safehouse in the middle of the night… he was marrying this woman because it was right thing to do. But it didn't _feel_ right.

 _"Tomorrow,"_ Audrey repeated, and Percy visibly relaxed. With his luck, she'd be giving birth in an hour!

The following day, Percy tried to pretend that he wasn't unnerved. Did you know the nerve of her awful muggle kettle? Instead of tea being poured by its spout, Percy had to do it _by himself!_ He bet it was laughing at him!

The room in the clinic that Audrey went to was white as a marshmallow covered in white chocolate.

Audrey was sat in her colourful work clothes—her black trousers, and oversized jumper. With her heaving stomach, she looked like the Weird Sisters groupie. The pregnancy actually made that look even more plausible! When he'd accidentally mentioned the Weird Sisters to Audrey, she thought that he was talking about three witches in _Macbeth_.

Percy then proceeded to read Macbeth. It really was a tragedy that muggles thought that magic was like that!

Audrey was about thirty-two weeks into her pregnancy—apparently, she still had a _whole month_ before she was meant to burst. Percy found that unfathomable that she was meant to get even bigger. Honestly, as a first year, he'd honestly tried to shove _less_ into his Hogwarts trunk and it still imploded on arrival.

"Miss Brown, there is just one thing that I want to discuss," Percy's breath got caught into his throat when the muggle healer said this. He felt like a first year that had just been called into Dumbledore's office—shook with terror and nauseated. "Your… your blood pressure is high, Miss. And I see that you have no other records in our facility—but I would like you to come by tomorrow and take a urine and blood test. And I want to check your blood pressure again."

Percy reached his hand over to hold Audrey's. "Is… is that dangerous?" he asked. "Is she going to be alright?"

Audrey was more shocked at the fact that he was holding her hand than finding out she had high blood pressure. She squeezed it back, and he realised how small and warm her hand was. He felt Flitterbies flutter in his abdomen.

"Well, we aren't sure if she really has high blood pressure or if it's a one-off! That's why we suggest that she come by tomorrow. The blood and urine tests will also help us see if there is any kind of problem," the healer replied.

Percy wondered if drinking copious amount of dragon milk help her blood pressure. It worked for Charlie! He was hypertensive for a whole year before… he refrained from asking the muggle healer and stayed quiet. Besides, Audrey's healer didn't really answer his first question!

"Oh," Audrey said softly. She opened her mouth to say something, but then didn't. "Thank you."

When was Audrey timid? It didn't suit her! Percy had questions too. Most of them required Trelawney and cup of tea.

"What if there _is_ a problem?" Percy finally said. "What then?" he tightened his grip around Audrey's hand.

"Percival, it's very much alright," Audrey didn't look like she'd expected to hear from this bloke that she had high blood pressure. "I think that it's maybe because I'm a little nervous… alright? I haven't been to an appointment in ages. And I've never been great with most physicians taking my blood pressure in general."

"That's a common problem," he said, and Percy wished he'd answer his bloody question. "Many people have—"

Percy sat up straight in his seat. _"_ Is it _DANGEROUS?"_ he asked. "If she really has a problem, is it dangerous?"

Audrey looked surprised. "Percival," she sounded appalled. "This man has a degree!"

"So do I," Percy repeated immediately. He didn't even know what a degree was. _"Is it dangerous?"_

"Yes… it can be very dangerous," her healer said. "But _if_ there is something wrong, then we are going to put her on medication and follow up with her regularly to make sure that nothing happens to your girlfriend. And we're going to have to deliver her baby earlier if she doesn't go into labour … but she's likely to go into labour early with twins."

"She's not my girlfriend. She's going to be my wife," Percy had never said those words out loud. The whole prospect of marrying her felt wrong. But some reason, telling off that man _very_ right. "And I don't want her to be ill."

He met with Audrey's eyes momentarily and she almost looked guarded—and confused.

Audrey looked like desperately to ask something. But she looked terrified. Percy didn't think that fear suited her much either. As for her healer, you'd think with glasses that big he'd be able to see that she was terrified!

"Um… if you'd just lie down on the bed, I'll examine you," the healer stood up. Percy glared. _Touching_ his fiancé?!

In the room, there were huge hulking machines in the room that did not excite Percy's inner Arthur Weasley. And he didn't want any 'obstetrician' to make his fiancé shudder under the feel of his cold hand with that- _that gel_. Yuck!

Then her daft 'obstetrician' dared to tell him to look at the monitor to see his baby.

Percy had seen more prettier things in his tea leaves. He knew that his children had _two_ amniotic sacs and _two_ placentas. The ruddy things that just couldn't share! Demanding!

Then the healer took out a sort of toastie-sized (Percy had very small bread, alright?)… thing and put it on Audrey's abdomen. He said it was to hear the baby's heartbeat and Percy rolled his eyes. Until he nearly wet himself because he heard _some_ _heartbeats!_ Well, at least those two didn't die yet from any sort of high blood pressure! Blimey, those were two resilient children. They refused to be aborted and had the heartbeats of a hippogriff after a rejuvenating potion. Admirable really!

As they left the clinic, Audrey clung onto him like a glumbumble to an asphodel.

"Percival?" Audrey asked, and he replied with a _hmm_. "Do you think that… that this is maybe… that this is because I've tried to…? Do you think that it's because I've tried to… _do you?"_ she couldn't even say the words.

How could she say the words when the halls were filled with expectant, brimming mums, dads and their babies?

Percy, in short, had no idea. "No," he replied with a confidence he didn't know he had. "Don't be daft."

He was confused at how pale she'd gotten when she'd heard that. Percy was confused too. He didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like more and more like a child every day! Percy didn't know how to deal with Audrey maybe having… _high blood pressure_. What was he supposed to feel? Relief? Horror? Disgust? Worry? Yes, Percy wasn't ecstatic to think about being responsible for two lives at the ripe age of eighteen. But… but if they died, then they'd be _stillbirths_. With faces, and fingers, and hippogriff hearts! That… that didn't _feel_ alright. Aborting a bunch of misshapen, dividing cells wasn't even the same thing! Drinking dragon milk wasn't like slaughtering it for meat!

Audrey avoided talking anymore about it. Which was probably the most immature way to cope with it.

A few days, the healers told Audrey that she had pre-eclampsia. Percy didn't know how to react to that either.

"What's _that?"_ Percy asked that glasses-wearing, gel-touching healer. "Is that like high blood pressure?"

"Sort of," the healer replied. Percy hated his office even more the second time. Who decided that muggle healer offices should be as white as his own pasty arse in the snow? "It's high blood pressure combined with protein in the urine."

Percy knew Audrey should've turned vegetarian! "Protein? _Where_ did that come from?" he asked in surprise.

"From the blood, Percival," Audrey had obviously done her reading. "It means my kidneys aren't working very well."

"Oh," Percy said softly. He was sure that you could live with only one kidney. Percy was sure that Uncle Bilius only had one. It confused him because he'd thought his liver would go first with all the drinking that he'd been doing most of his life. "Well… _I_ can give her one of mine! That can't hurt, can it?"

Audrey chuckled. "Percival, unless you can give me a new placenta, I don't think that it will rectify our predicament."

Percy knew someone that preserved her placenta whole if she wanted it. But he doubted that she would want that.

"Can it hurt the babies?" Percy finally asked, and Audrey's face turned white as anything. "Can it hurt her?"

All he could think about was the image of an ill Audrey sat in the hospital and two little girls in the neonatal intensive care unit, with little wires stuck to their bodies. If that happened, what on Earth was he supposed to do? What was _THE POINT_ of being a magical being if he couldn't save a muggle girl and his two children from a perilous fate?

The healer looked at Percy and nodded his head. "Yes," he said. "It can make them growth restricted because they're not getting enough blood. But we will book Audrey for her first Doppler ultrasound soon, and this will let us know if the babies aren't getting enough nutrients. But by her most ultrasound, the babies seem to be of normal size and the amount of amniotic fluid around them doesn't seem to be too little."

Percy nodded his head. "And Audrey?" Percy finally looked over at her. "What… what can happen to Audrey?"

"Um… that is a difficult matter to discuss," the healer said. Percy would imagine Fred and George's O.W.L results were difficult for him to discuss with the Minister, but he'd get on with it if the Minister asked!

The healer told him that she could get _eclampsia_. Which meant that she could have a fit any time and _die_ —and the babies too obviously, since she was the reason that they were alive! And then she could suddenly lose her kidneys and her liver overnight, so if she had any tummy pain, it was probably _not_ because of that curry that she decided to have that night. He gave them a pamphlet about the warning signs and got told that there were many women diagnosed with pre-eclampsia in Britain, and many of them were fine now! Pushing their strollers along the park in their pretty post-natal frocks whilst meeting up with their mates for elevenses. _Audrey_ in a conventional frock? Was he mad?

The more he talked, the more secluded that Audrey got. And Percy felt so hopeless. _What could he do?_

Percy felt awful that he didn't know anything much about pregnancy. He'd never really talked about it with his mum. And well, he doubted she wanted to talk to him about it now that he'd slammed the door in her face! And what did Penelope know about pregnancy? She told her best friend that a little tipple wouldn't hurt her growing foetus!

When he left the appointment, Percy walked to the nearest chemist immediately afterwards to get her the tablets.

By the time that Audrey even managed to hobble her way down, Percy had already bought her the tablets.

Surprised, Audrey accepted her bag of tablets and the cream that she used for her foot pains. Might as well, right?

"Thank you," she said tentatively, holding the bag. "Percival, what's wrong?"

"They look like that ones you took to get rid of the babies," Percy was unconvinced. "That 'doctor' is having a laugh!"

Audrey looked genuinely shocked. "Percival, are you daft? It's most definitely _not_ the same!" she pulled out a box. "They don't even have remotely _the same name!_ There are five-year-olds that know that those two are not alike! I… I swear to God that you act like something that's just been plucked out of a Tolkien novel!"

Percy just went red at the ears. "Well! I didn't… our…" he stuttered. Tolkien? Was that like a Galleon?

Audrey stared at him like she was trying to read him. Fortunately, she had no access to the Restricted Section.

"You're hiding something from me, Percival," Audrey was annoyed. "Something that would explain why you're-you're like this! A massive brain tumour, perhaps?" she spat out acerbically.

Percy did not want to focus on his _peculiarities_ in the middle of London with a woman that just got diagnosed with pre-eclampsia! A woman that knew that he was hiding something, a woman that he was due to marry!

"You wouldn't believe me," Percy said in a soft voice. Logical muggle Audrey being told about _magic_. She'd get stomach pains for months after that, surely. "Audrey, please, _NOW_ is not the time! I…"

"I have pre-eclampsia because of _your_ babies," Audrey firmly said. "I've not met your family members. I've not asked about your peculiarities before. I've ignored you staring at my… _facial deformity._ I've respected you enough to tell my parents that I do not want children. I am going to _MARRY_ you because I think that having official titles would be easier for you to explain to your-your children… and-and you still _DARE_ to keep secrets from me! How could you—"

 _"I'M A WIZARD!"_ Percy cut her off. He said this in the middle of a busy London street, and nobody blinked twice.

Audrey stiffened. "You mean you're _schizophrenic_ ," she said. "Or you have a convoluted personality disorder!"

Percy's chest ached, because he wished he hadn't said anything. "No, I can prove it. I can—"

"Oh, save your pitiful parlour tricks!" Audrey yelled, her shaking hands balled into fists. "I'll be happy to send you your magical babies—if the pre-eclampsia that you've given me doesn't kill me first!"

Percy's hands were clammy. "Audrey, that's not… that's not fair," he whispered. "I want to explain—"

"Let me guess!" Audrey just glared at him. "You're a fanatic of the Salem Witch trials?"

"Salem Witch trails?" he was stunned. "Those trials are the reason that _YOU_ don't know about us in the first place!"

Audrey just stared at him like she'd just noticed that he was honestly off his rockers.

"I… I can take you to the café that you like," Percy said softly. "I believe that they are serving sugar-free vanilla syrup now. And they also have a mocha syrup I believe. I'll pay for it. I promise. And… I'll tell you about this. _Please_."

"Percival, I will call the police if you try to contact me," Audrey said very seriously.

When he saw her walk away, he still tried to follow her. Audrey turned around and slapped him right across the cheek. Percy was stunned, as he held his cheek in his hand.

 _"I WILL CALL THE POLICE IF YOU CONTACT ME!"_ Audrey finally said. "Is that clear?"

This woman was screeching at this man, telling him that she'd contact the police—which Percy assumed meant that he'd end up answering to the authority—and nobody in the street battled an eyelash! Disgusting.

Percy slowly nodded his head. "Audrey, we were supposed to get married," he said very softly. "What about the—?"

"I'll cut them out of my stomach and throw them at you—and be done with this pre-eclampsia nonsense that you've… you've made me sick from!" Audrey said in disgust. "Well, I _would've_ if I didn't question your mental state. Either you're psychotic or you think I'm so daft—the girl with the face malformation that believes in fairytales!"

Percy's chest ached. "Audrey, _there was a war_ ," he finally said, watching her walk away. _"AUDREY!"_

All he wanted to do was to make sure Audrey was alright. What was he supposed to do when someone was sick _because_ of something you did? What did it matter if he was magical—if he told her he could do _nothing_ for her?


	17. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 8

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Seventeen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 8

* * *

"Hello, Miss… Audrey Claire Brown," Percy was standing by her door. He had her schedule memorised—she would've returned from mums-to-be yoga class an hour ago. She went with a portly, single Irish mum that lived on the fourth floor that liked to give her lemon-flavoured traybakes every few days. "It's… it's Percy. I… I…"

Since their encounter, Percy had been leaving books by her door. The first book that he gave her was a comprehensive wizarding history and guide, with explanations of monuments, wars and miraculous activities that occurred in muggle history that was never explained. Yes well… as that bent Gryffindor bloke in the Quidditch team said: _go big or go home_. And well, excuse him, but Percy was most definitely not going _home_ after he'd slammed the door in his mum's face!

Yesterday, he gave her another seven-hundred-page book called _So… Wizards Exist! Did You Know There Was A War That Could've Eradicated Mankind?_ Followed by… well, he sent her the Draught of Peace after that.

She'd need it after _Chapter 32: The Birth of Harry Potter_ , and _Chapter 45: An Intimate History of the Weasley Family Tree!_

Last night, she'd returned the first book battered in red. Well, he just answered all her questions in cheap quill ink.

"I've answered all your questions! I do not know who this Jesus Chris bloke is, but I'm sure that Harry Potter is not our 'wizarding variant' of him!" Percy said, clinging tightly on his battered-looking book—returned to him in subpar condition because she'd obviously thrown it across the room a few times. Now that this whole 'I'm a wizard, Audrey—surprise!' spiel was out, he now kept a pocket guide of a muggle to wizard dictionary in his navy blue, linen blazer pockets. Yes, _linen_. He looked like he was wearing someone's bedsheets. But at least he found out the difference between train, subway and tram today! "I wasn't able to answer where Kneazles come from either!"

Percy crouched down and placed the book on her _Welcome Home_ mat. "I'll just leave this down here, alright!"

When he placed the book down, Percy felt himself remembering just how Audrey's flat looked like from the inside. She had toilet paper rolls that were cleaner than his trousers, and her shelves were gleaming like they were on display at _Fortescue's' Furnishings—No Relation to Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour!_ Percy felt nostalgic. He'd tried to sterilise his flat, but it left him empty. Well, he had a brimming flat that smelled like an operating theatre, but he was empty inside too.

He kept on thinking of little Audrey bleeding in her flat all by herself, trying to get rid of the babies of a bloke she thought wanted nothing to do with her. He wondered if she felt like many blokes wanted nothing to do with her.

But now, Audrey had pre-eclampsia. She had _TWO_ babies with _TWO_ placentas. He couldn't bare to leave her alone with such a high-risk pregnancy to fend for herself… a pregnancy she didn't even want to begin with!

"Audrey, I…" Percy was whispering to himself. "I… very much would like to work through this. But for some Merlin forsaken reason, _you_ won't listen to anything that I have to say!" he mumbled in irritation. _"Wonderful!"_

Percy nearly fell on his arse when Audrey opened the door. She was in a beige jumper and black yoga pants. In her arms, there was the copy of the second book that he gave her. It looked like she'd tried to cook it over the stove.

She grabbed him by his sweater vest and pulled him up on his feet. Then her hands rummaged around his body.

Percy stiffened slightly, feeling on the verge of being sexually harassed by the mum of his children.

When she was reaching in for the band of his jeans, Percy shuddered but then he recalled _Chapter 3: Where Wizards Hide Their Wands_. As if he'd put _his_ _wand_ in his underpants…! When she placed her hand on his chest, he grabbed her arms. She didn't move her hands away from his chest. He swore for a second that the whole world froze. He bet that she could feel his heart beating against her small, warm palms. And he was particularly aware of how her chest rose with every breath, and how her protruding abdomen felt against his flat stomach.

Percy almost jumped up in fright when he felt something _move_ in Audrey's stomach.

 _You can kill a man with a wooden stick at the ripe age of eleven and you're surprised that your two living daughters are having a swim in their own amniotic fluid?_ Percy told himself. _Which is disgusting, because they're floating in their own urine!_

Flushed and semi-confused about how much he… felt for this woman that was trying to assault him just a few seconds ago, Percy grabbed her hand and moved it towards his sleeve. The irritation melted from her face and twisted into recognition, as Audrey drew his wand from his sleeve. She was breathing more heavily.

Percy watched Audrey flip the wand into her hand. She tried to aim it at him, which put as much fear into him as an obese Kneazle trying to attack him. Yes, Audrey had probably read about some of the deadliest spells and incantations, but she was a _muggle_. She could wield a wand just as well as Percy could fly a sodding plane!

"Um… Audrey…" Percy reached over to take his wand back. "Can I just… have my wand back?" he whispered.

He slowly tried to retrieve his wand back from her, and she reluctantly let go of it.

"Your _wand?"_ Audrey reiterated, like she couldn't believe that he dared to say that word out loud.

When he took his wand back, Audrey—who didn't want anything to do with babies whatsoever—wrapped her arms firmly around her abdomen, as if she was trying to protect them from… from _him?_

"Audrey?" Percy whispered. As a child, he read stories of how excited muggle women were about magic. Rubbish!

"What is it that you want, Percival? Can't you just turn me into a puppet that'll accept whatever you'd say if you're so _magical?"_ Audrey said condescendingly. "Honestly! You… you need to be barred in a mental institution!"

Percy looked down at his feet. "I can't help what I am, Audrey," he continued to whisper.

"Oh yes!" Audrey finally said. "You can't help that you can ride brooms and fly cars! And that you live smack in a giant house in the middle of a secret part of Devon that us _STUPID_ 'muggles' don't know anything about! You can't help that you believe that there was a war happening a near decade ago that apparently, us _STUPID_ 'muggles' don't know anything about! Let me guess—we were just blissfully living about, scoffing our Costa toasties, wondering what's going to be on the telly and going about our boring muggle lives whilst you were out there defending us!"

"I was five, Audrey!" Percy replied. "I doubt that there was much defending on my part!"

Audrey looked at him with disgust. "How could you honestly believe this rubbish? Are you sure you left your parents, or they kicked you out because they think you're _completely mad?"_ Percy looked away from her.

"I can prove it," Percy said, but he was frightened that she wouldn't believe him even if he did show her.

Audrey's eyes widened. "Yes! You can! You can fly a car, can't you?" she mumbled. "Without a driver's licence!"

Percy went red. He made a circular motion with his wand. "Orchideous," he produced a single, crisp white rose.

She seemed unimpressed. "Really? You're going to try and prove the fact that a _whole war_ happened ten years ago because you could conjure a _flower_ out of your sleeve?" Percy had heard that there were false muggle magicians from his father. Maybe they were able to produce flowers from out of nowhere as well! "Oh yes, Percival! Let me melt at your brilliance! Let me sing praises to you now that you're able to give me your magical _FLOWER!_ Not like I can't go down to any bloody shop in the middle of London and get one of those _stupid little_ …"

"Audrey, I'm torn," Percy admitted. He felt like a fraud, stood there with his freckled horse-face and his second-hand glasses that cost even less than a hot chocolate. And even with twelve O.W.L's, he was less eloquent with words than Oliver Wood was with a Potions essay! "I…I don't want to shock you with… with my… abilities!"

 _"Shock me?"_ Audrey was fuming at him. "Shock me with _what?_ Your wondrous milk bottle trick?"

What wondrous milk bottle trick? Was this a muggle magician trick? Percy felt woozy.

"I dare you to try and _SHOCK ME!"_ Audrey yelled violently, and his head pounded. "What are you so afraid of showing me—! A lowly muggle girl that was so _STUPID_ that she didn't know that there was a whole…!"

Percy grabbed her hand and she stared at him with a wide-eyed expression.

 _"LET GO OF ME!"_ Audrey yelled at him. "I don't trust you! You—you're mentally ill! You're daft! You…you…"

"Audrey, I'm sorry," Percy said to her. "I'm _so_ sorry." Then he disapparated away.

When Percy landed in Diagon Alley, he felt his stomach ache when a shaking, fuming Audrey vomited on the side of the round. Just when she thought she'd gotten rid of that morning sickness as well! Now, she was upchucking noodles all over the street. Percy unzipped his rucksack and pulled out his favourite robes to wrap around her petite frame.

Instead, she turned around and knocked him backwards on his feet. _"DON'T TOUCH ME!"_ she screeched.

He landed on his arse and looked up at her with wide blue eyes. "Audrey, please, listen to me," Percy begged. He was never the one to be begging but he was literally on his arse now, begging for this insane woman to listen! "Audrey, I didn't know what else to do to prove to you that I'm… I didn't know what else to do! You wouldn't listen to me!"

Audrey placed a hand on her abdomen, and then looked around the street. " _WHERE_ am I?" she screamed.

"This is Diagon Alley," Percy stood up. Maybe he was the one that was going to go into labour because he had sharp, shooting pains in his abdomen. "Audrey, we're still in London I promise you that—"

"London?" Audrey waved her arms dramatically. "This is not London... _I've_ been to every part of London there is!"

"Not this one, I'm afraid," Percy said softly. Audrey stormed off from him.

"I'm sure!" Audrey yelled. "This is _so convenient_ for you, isn't it? _To have a secret part of London that I've never heard about?_ A _DEVON_ boy that knows about a secret part of London that I don't know about! _"_ Percy ran after her—well, after he cleaned up her puddle of vomit and noodles on the street with a spell. He wasn't a barbarian for Merlin's sake!

Percy, fortunately, did not have much running to do to catch up to heavily pregnant Audrey Claire Brown.

"What…?" Audrey stopped in the middle of the road, staring at where she was. "What is this…? What is _THIS?"_

She was standing in front of a store that only sold quills. The irony wasn't lost on him that he was a vegetarian that wrote with bird feathers he dipped in cheap processed ink. There were wand and broomstick shops everywhere—something that was very tangible and real before her very twinkling brown eyes. Quidditch bets were running rampant. And Audrey, who was about to tear off his robes, suddenly wrapped them tightly around herself once she noticed that she blended into the background of women walking around in… much more lavish robes than his, that was certain!

Percy inched closer and watched the emotions that were shining in her eyes. Somewhere between fear and confusion.

"Where am I?" Audrey finally spat out. " _Where_ did you take me? _How_ did you take me here?" she cried out in horror.

"This is Diagon Alley," Percy repeated, placing a hand on her. She pushed him away. "I disapparated you here—um… I am able to appear and disappear and I am able to take others to travel with me. To an extent, really. It was explained in much detail in Chapter Thirteen _… Wizarding Transportation and How to Hide it From Muggles!_ "

"You didn't really expect me to believe that rubbish, did you?" Audrey mumbled in irritation.

Yes, he did! When she was stood there in front of a shop that sold quality quills and was listening to a bunch of children say about what magical boarding school they'd be shipped off to once they turned eleven!

Percy's chest ached as he stared at this woman. "Audrey, come have a coffee with me," he said. "Please."

Audrey looked over at him. "Have a coffee with you?" she reiterated. "You must be daft if you think I'll go anywhere near you ever again! I just… I want to get back to my flat in London… which this is _NOT!"_

She clung onto his robes. " _NOW_ …" Audrey scanned the shops. "Where are the God forsaken _TRAINS_ here?"

Before she could storm off again, her face went white when she _really_ looked at what was happening.

"Audrey?" Percy turned to look at her, noticing how white her face had gone and how ill she looked. "Audrey?"

Audrey froze as she saw a woman transfigure her purse into a blanket to wrap around her crying, cold baby. Meanwhile, a milkshake vendor _Accio_ -ed a bottle of sauce from the other side of the cart because he couldn't be bothered with walking there himself. A couple of children were playing with nose-biting teacups. Every second or so, a new spell was being cast with a wand just like the one that she'd seen Percy hold in his hand!

"What is… what is… how did this…" Audrey looked confused. "What is this…! Percival, what are you…?"

"Come on," Percy told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "There's a coffee-shop just a few blocks from here. And… I believe that you'll feel better once you drink something. I… would like to tell you about my job."

Audrey followed him, her face contorted with confusion. _"Job?"_ she reiterated, like she didn't know the word.

"Yes," Percy said, but he was glad that she didn't look angry anymore. "Come on."

She'd gone from being enthralled to shaking in her shoes. Her eyes were glued to every shop that they passed. Her face turned whiter by the second, as Percy clung onto the book in his hands. Audrey's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she noticed a house-elf walking along with a lady in lavish robes. And she felt ill when she noticed the posters— _real_ posters, asking for help wanted in Romania for dragon training.

"Anything for your lady?" one of the vendors walked up to them, holding a shiny, overpriced necklace in his hand.

"I am _not_ his lady," was Audrey's immediate statement. Just to think, he was going to marry her just a few days ago!

Percy sighed deeply and nodded towards the sunny-haired vendor. "Yes, please," he replied.

In his attempt to try and calm Audrey down, he took her over towards the table. There were jewels that changed colours by the second, necklaces melted into shapes with dragon-fire and little earrings that were made to contain potions inside the crystals. Percy picked up a werewolf-shaped stone, and Audrey stared at it in disbelief.

When Percy was picking up jewels, Audrey shied away like he'd committed a felony that could send him to Azkaban.

She walked away from the cart, looking absolutely heartbroken. He abandoned the cart the second she walked away.

"Audrey?" Percy tried to catch up with this woman! She had the endurance of Viktor Krum himself. "Audrey?"

"I'll listen to whatever it is you have to say," Audrey blurted out and Percy's heart was beating loudly. "If…if…"

 _"If?"_ Percy's heart was beating quickly because he was terrified that she was going to ask him to cure her pre-eclampsia or to suddenly change anything about her pregnancy situation. Percy was not Merlin himself. He didn't have the—

Audrey's hand moved up to her mouth, and then caressed against her lip. "Can you… can you get rid of this?"

Percy's eyebrows furrowed. "Audrey," it hurt to say her name. _Her scar?_ She wanted to get rid of it?

"Can you?" Audrey asked him again, this time more firmly. _"Can you get rid of this?"_ she asked again.

"Audrey, this is ridiculous," Percy shook his head. "I think that that…shows character!"

"I didn't ask what you thought about it," Audrey grumbled. "Can you just… _can you?"_ her eyes glittered with tears.

Percy looked away from her, and then breathed out. He didn't answer her. "Audrey, I…" he looked down at her and saw the way that her lips were trembling. She looked like she wanted to cry. "Audrey?"

"This is the only thing I'd ever really wanted," Audrey's voice cracked. "I wish every day that it would just go away."

Not her pre-eclampsia that would kill her and her children or the fact that she was carrying two babies that she never wanted but her deformed lip scar! Percy didn't particularly understand why. But she just _had_ to say his name…

Audrey held his head into her hands, standing on her toes. _"Percy,"_ she whispered desperately. He felt the world stop.

Percy stared at her face, and then wordlessly nodded his head. He unzipped his rucksack and produced a scar-erasing cream… which he paid for about two years ago to try and get rid of that scar he had on his abdomen after he spent a week in Romania. Thank you, Charlie!

"Only… only for a few hours!" Percy said, and then dabbed a little bit of that cream across her lip. Percy watched the cream dissolve—and with it, the scar around her mouth. Percy was surprised to see how she looked like without her lip scar. She was ten times more beautiful than most women that he'd seen but… she didn't look much like Audrey.

She looked more like every other girl. She looked boring. She looked... different. It didn't feel right.

"Is it gone?" Audrey asked, still wide-eyed and… vulnerable. "Is it gone now?"

"Yes," Percy said, clearing his throat. "It's magic, isn't it?" he reminded her in a defeated tone.

Audrey pulled out her compact mirror, and then stared at her face. She let a hand reach over to feel for the skin—the non-scarred skin around her lip. She looked even more shocked staring at it than she did looking at house-elves or noticing teacups that were able to bite. She looked absolutely speechless. But Percy didn't understand why.

"A few hours?" Audrey asked in a high-pitched, confused voice. "Just a few hours?"

"You can always put it on again," Percy gave her the little tub and she took it like it was an elixir of youth. She tightened the lid and stuffed it into her purse, her cheeks going red. Elegant-looking Audrey that still had the awkwardness of someone that didn't think they were the Kneazle's cream yet. "But I really think that…"

"Did… did you say that there's a coffee shop?" Audrey asked. "And th-that… you're going to tell me about your job?"

"Yes," Percy said, and then took her hand into his. She let her other hand wander to her lip, where she kept feeling the skin over and over again. She looked like she was in disbelief of what he'd done. As if he'd resurrected a corpse—which he would never do, though he did read many books from the Restricted Section about it. Out of curiosity.

"Do I look nice?" Audrey suddenly asked him, looking at him with big, confused twinkling chocolate-brown eyes.

Percy nodded his head, and then ran her hand through his hair. "I always thought you looked nice," he said honestly. He may make fun of the fact that her hair looked like it was mauled by a desperate Kneazle, or the fact that he had more curves than she did, but… he really did think she looked very nice. And he wouldn't change anything about her.

She didn't look like she believed him. "Oh," she said instead. "The coffee shop—is… is the coffee nice?"

"Yes," Percy answered, rubbing his neck nervously. "Um…there is no sugar-free vanilla syrups."

"It's okay," Audrey said, as if now, she could have all the normal syrup coffees now that she had no lip scar.

Percy just… felt such strong feelings for this woman! For some convoluted reason, he wanted nothing more than to make her happy, but he _hated_ the thought that she felt like she had to get rid of her lip scar to feel like she looked nice. Because that meant that someone put that idea in her head that she didn't look nice _because of it_. And he doubted that she got that scar because she willingly sliced her lip open with a knife! Someone made her feel unworthy because of _her circumstance.  
_

But he was also so… _disappointed_. Was her appearance really more important than her health or her children?

Did he love her? Percy was frightened to even think about it. It was most unconventional. He barely knew this woman. He didn't even _know_ how she'd even gotten the sodding thing in the first place! How could he love her?

He told her that he'd love to sleep with her at around Chapter Twenty the first night they met! Chapter Twenty his bony arse. He didn't realise that she was a seven-hundred-page book that required its own ruddy dictionary. Percy would be lucky to get to Chapter Twenty before he had to potty-train his daughters! And how could he _love_ a book where he was still stuck in the first few chapters anyway? A book that he dared to declare was his favourite amongst others? When he had other books that he'd read and reread to the point where he practically knew every curve of ink? Books where he could still smell of the paper if he just closed his eyes? How could he _love_ Audrey Claire Brown?

At the café, Percy got them two mochas and then topped them off with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Audrey looked alarmed at the sight of something that was made with real sugar… but then promptly relaxed.

"You were saying?" Audrey asked, poking the whipped cream on top with her spoon. "About… about _this?"_

"Yes!" ironically, Percy forgot that he was supposed to be explaining to her what kind of job he actually. "About… about _this_ … well… there is one good reason I did want to bring you here to Diagon Alley… well, eventually and in a better situation than the one I did. But I wanted to discuss our daughters' cots. Because they're really dismal!"

Percy was very animated as he talked. He talked to her about how much he had locked away in his Gringott's account and how he wanted to buy a better cot than the death-trap that he'd tried to assemble two days ago. Diagon Alley had cots that could withstand a dragon-belching contest, a Cornish pixie party and _possibly_ be Fred and George guaranteed! Percy tried to be careful with his words, and he tried to explain everything that he said—but it didn't feel like it mattered really. Percy could say that he drank hippogriff blood for breakfast, and she wouldn't bat an eye.

Because he was sure that Miss Audrey Claire Brown was not listening to a single word that he said!

"Yes, well… the cots aren't very important!" Percy noticed her more interested in trying to find out the components of the café's chocolate sauce than her daughters' well-being. "Did you know this café sells a maternity blend? And…"

She was still not listening. Otherwise, she surely would've commented on the cashew milk, gloves and ginger mums-to-be blend that he could get for her to put into her daily coffee. And surely, she would've said something about how this coffee house imported their own dragon-roasted coffee beans from a dragon reserve in Fiji!

"Do you know how many dragon reserves there are in the world?" Percy chattered on, trying to ignore Audrey's complete disinterest. "Did you know that my brother, Charlie, is actually a dragon tamer in Romania? And yes, that's an actual country even though my eleven-year-old self didn't actually believe that it was… did you read about dragons before? I bet you must've with all the… incorrect dragon lore that that muggles believe in!"

As he talked, Audrey tried to make herself look bigger than her four-foot-eleven. She scanned the shop with vigor.

 _"Dragons,"_ Percy reiterated for the hundredth time. "Those flying mythical beings that breathe fire…? Yes? Well—"

"Can you make me look like I'm not pregnant?" Audrey cut him off, looking at him with soft eyes.

Percy was thrown off by her question. _"What?"_ he sounded… hurt. Why was he hurt?

The more she asked him things like this, the more he felt like she wasn't taking it seriously that she was ill. Her placenta was not working properly, and Percy could not exactly donate another one. And it was _one of the biggest causes_ of maternal morbidity and mortality worldwide. Even in wizarding London!

And she wondered if she could look like she was her old, five-stone self! Really! Was _that_ really important now?

"You're sick," Percy said very slowly. "And you want to compete in a beauty pageant?"

He wished that she'd snap back at him and give him a bloody good reason why. But she didn't.

"There's—just… um…this bloke that I've liked since high school. His name is Christopher Fearn," Audrey told him. "I was just… I just want to know how it feels like to… go out with him. I wouldn't have had a chance if I… if…"

"Oh, pardon me," Percy said. "You want to go on a date with a sexist arsehole?" he challenged.

Percy didn't have to know anything about that twat. If he wouldn't have given her a chance solely because she had a wonky-looking lip scar, then by Percy's definition, he was already sexist. And he'd never met a decent bloke that was sexist. Maybe Penelope was rubbing off on him a little—all those Merlin forsaken feminist seminars he had to attend!

Audrey flushed deeply. "I just…" she looked away from him. "I just want to know how it's like."

 _Know what? What it was like to be with a misogynist?_ This was the woman that wrote a comprehensive feminist essay and printed it in the newspaper in 1992! Percy knew, because she had it framed on a plaque in her flat.

"I've always wanted to know," Audrey said. "How it's like to have someone like _that_ like you."

Percy was sure that she was also subtly implying that he was a loser. And she wanted to know how it was like to be with someone that looked pretty and could probably make any woman in Britain swoon.

It was hard not to feel like it was a competition when Audrey wanted to marry him just seconds before she discovered that Percy had his own Primpernelle's Exclusive! _I should charge her_ , he thought bitterly. _A pitiful poor bloke like myself!_

Great. Percy was reduced to granting wishes for a woman that was going to marry him until she found out that she had other options now that she knew about the existence of magic. Percy was appalled. Because if he thought there was one muggle woman in the whole wide world that would've been interested in hearing about the rights of werewolves and how many dragon reserves there were in the world—you know, once she got past the initial shock, then it was Audrey Claire Brown. Who was quickly becoming into someone else now that she was _pretty_.

Why should she care about what the wizarding legal system that she could go to her own personalised Yule Ball?!

"Can you do it?" Audrey asked again. "Can you make me look like I'm not pregnant?"

"I suppose," Percy made his disappointment apparent. "Why not? It's what _the wizarding_ _society_ represents!"

Audrey shrunk herself down into her seat. She looked like she wanted to defend herself, but she didn't. What could she say? _Since I was a little girl, all I'd wanted to do was grow up to be pretty? I don't care that your kind went through a life-changing war ages ago? I know you are prepared to tell me details of the aforementioned war that you've never told anyone ever, but it doesn't really interest me!_

Here Percy was, thinking she was going to ask him if the wizarding populace could cure some of the debilitating muggle diseases… which no, they could not. Percy had been getting ready to explain to her that he could not cure AIDS with a wave of his wand. In fact, waving the wand was probably the problem with AIDS in the first place. If _only_ they kept the wand tucked away! And _POLISHED_. And he certainly couldn't help her with her pre-eclampsia… no matter how much he hated that he could do nothing about it. At least he didn't have to feel the burden now! That he'd disappointed her by not being able to do things that he felt like she might've believed he could.

Audrey nodded her head. "Alright," she said, as if they were doing some sort of business transaction. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Percy replied. For some reason, it came out as more genuine than he intended.

Percy wanted to go ahead and tell her more about the wizarding world, but he shut up. Because he wasn't about to blather on when nobody was listening. Underneath that bookworm-like façade she had, Percy was forced to see that this woman was a sickle a dozen! She even graduated to not listening to a single word he said, just like everyone else.

Yet why did he still feel like this about her? He saw that the cover was a lie and the chapters were twisting into a direction he didn't particularly want to read about… but _WHY_ was he still _READING IT?_

 _"Orchideous,"_ Percy used his wand to make her a very plump gardenia wreath. It was the prettiest wreath that he'd ever made with a wand. And it meant less to him than that stupid bookmark—that two-knut nothing that was from his heart. "I suppose this is… to reconsidering our _arrangements?"_ ha. Get it? Arrangement? Flower arrangement?

Audrey reached over to pick up the flowers. "They're nice," she said. She didn't even laugh, not even a little.

 _Not the most effective use of magic_ , Percy thought to himself. _When I could be turning you into a princess!_ He mocked.

There was a lot that he wanted to say to her that day. Percy wanted to tell her that he'd trying to read about her condition. Pre-eclampsia was a word that he didn't know, and the more he read about it, the more confused that he was. She told him it was related to her placenta. Apparently, that was why you couldn't know in the beginning of the pregnancy when Audrey had been following up with the healers then! She probably had been following up until her eighteenth or nineteenth week. Because that was long enough to know the genders of her babies, but not long enough to know about her pre-eclampsia. Because the placenta didn't form until late in the pregnancy! It was also more likely to happen in twin pregnancies. Which made him feel very guilty. Because she wouldn't be having twin pregnancies if it wasn't for him. And what was wrong with his Weasley genetics anyway? Wasn't _one_ baby enough?

At the back of Percy's mind, he felt the urge to owl his mum. Ask her for if she knew anything about it. How he was supposed to feel about it. How he was supposed to treat her now. Was this her coping mechanism, because she didn't want to think about the fact that she was very ill? Or did she really not realise how ill she could be?

"I think I have feelings for you, Audrey…" Percy blurted out, and Audrey was so surprised she tore one of the flowers out of her perfect flower arrangement. Her face was riddled with confusion. "I… I feel very strongly about you."

He felt very strong emotions towards her. He felt his heart ache at the position that she was in. He tried to respect what she was—though she wasn't doing much of a smacking job of that herself. Percy was disappointed and furious with her, but the kind of furious that he would've been with Ginny if she disregarded her own well-being for something as stupid as pretty dress robes and a date with Harry blasted Potter. He felt protective. He felt… he felt a lot of things.

Audrey looked down at the flowers in her hands. "I've never had anyone tell me they have feelings for me before."

Percy stared at her with shining blue eyes. "You don't have to say anything," he said. _Please say something_ , he thought.

Audrey offered him a weak smile. ""I wasn't going to, Percival."


	18. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 9

_super sorry about how late this is. i had exams and currently, it's Ramadan so fasting for long hours does not inspire fanfiction (yes, i'm Muslim. probably obvious from the fact that i know 0% about alcohol that i had to make up some magical one just to make my plot make sense.)_

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **Fanfiction4thewin-Blog** : i have to admit that my writing style is a little bit of an acquired taste. it's in the categories i mentioned. there is some seriousness to it, especially as you go on more and more but i don't like to write 100% serious because i like to keep it a little on the softer side. otherwise, it'll be too dark for my liking. and i've been called out for having seriously dark fanfiction before so this just happened to emerge with time. that's all i can say really. i'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. i know how much it sucks to have a story you want to be written in some way but it's just not what you hoped for even though the idea is good in your opinion._

 _ **spyinsecret007:** i'm surprised by how many people dislike this Audrey that i wrote! wow! _

_**Dugleik** : the Audrey for this fanfiction is definitely an acquired taste, and i change my Audrey with each fanfiction (i don't know if you're read any of my other fanfictions). but at least she's not a prominent character in current times. wow... you feel so strongly about all the characters! i like how different people have different opinions about all the characters. it's very interesting. _

_**Guest** : i don't know if you read Love and Old Black Shoes, but i actually had a flashback in that one where i had someone tell Molly that Percy might be on the autism spectrum in that one. i always write Percy with a lot of issues. in this one he's a very anxious character versus for example, the other fanfiction i'm working on where he's heavily on the OCD spectrum. i always write Percy as this character that harbours a lot of self-hatred, mostly because i always think that conceited characters have this self-insecurity that they don't like to show others so they try to pad that with an outward narcissism. i feel like it explains a lot of his actions. i think though he is extremely self-centered and pities himself a lot but if you read mostly the dialogue, you would realise that there is literally no way that others could know that he feels this way because he doesn't convey most of these emotions. like for example, this chapter, his disappointment with Audrey he practically keeps to himself. his fear about Audrey's safety was never fully discussed with Audrey, etc. so... it's an interesting dynamic. i usually write other people's perspectives but it's really difficult in this one. i hope though that i'll be able to add another layer to this because of Daphne._

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : this Audrey is definitely an acquired taste. she changes every time i write her. this Audrey doesn't even look the same as the other Audrey in Muggle Me. i obviously like experimenting with how her personality might be like... i know that her personality is difficult to swallow in this one. hopefully, you'd like more towards the end. _

* * *

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Eighteen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 9

* * *

After their coffees, Percy thought to escort Audrey to Obscurus Books, one of the better stocked bookshops in wizarding London at least. Though he promised that he would not make a fool of himself, his eyes lit up at their newest selections. He'd promptly forgot that he was with a woman that was not only carrying twins, but thirty-something odd weeks into her pregnancy and could go into labour any second. Instead, Percy found himself head-first into The Wonderful World of Exotic Potion Making, priced at a _shameful_ four Galleons a book. _Four Galleons!_

Percy didn't know why he was upset. He didn't even have exotic potion ingredients to begin with. And where was he supposed to get a Fwooper's testicles from anyway? Well… he supposed Fred and George didn't need _four_ —

Then Audrey wandered towards him, with a pretty, pastel-coloured book called _The Muggleborn's Guide to Taking Care of Your Wizarding Babies Whilst Honouring Your Baby's Diverse Background!_ "Can… can I have this?" she asked.

"May you have this?" Percy corrected her, and then she went redder than a Gryffindor tie. "Yes, you may."

She was shy now! Funny that Audrey wasn't shy at all asking him if he could make her stomach flatter than that of a Holyhead Harpies player, but she was hesitating in asking him to pay for a book that he would be ecstatic to buy! Maybe it was because he was evidently so cross with her at the café. He even told her that he hoped that she _burned her tongue_ _on her hot beverage_. But he was not so cross with her that he was hoping that she found her mocha to be vile.

"Do you want anything else?" Percy asked. She looked around the shop and shook her head.

"Thank you," Audrey said. When she did that, the Flitterbies in his stomach all started to vomit. Wonderful.

Really. A book about wizarding babies was hardly the most exciting thing in that shop. Percy was trying not to shell out all his money on _Quidditch Team Building Exercises_ and a book dedicated to how to perfect his curries.

Percy couldn't cook to save his life. Now, sticking things in the oven and not burning them… he was good at that.

When they left the bookstore, Audrey mentioned wanting to go back to her flat. Percy was about to ask her if she wanted her own pair of pretty pink dress robes (Percy was evidently obsessed with buying _pink things_ ), he caught sight of something—or rather _someone_ —that made his heart stop in his chest. Charlie Weasley was assessing second-hand watches from a vendor just next to the pub. Percy's stomach sloshed uncomfortably when Charlie picked up a piece of fake leather that looked about as exotic as a skinned Kneazle! And then… Charlie and him just _HAD_ to lock eyes.

"Is that your brother?" Audrey asked, pulling her robes over herself. "He's _gorgeous_ ," she said dreamily.

How cosmic. The woman that was going to marry him two days ago was now gawking at her older brother's arse.

Percy cleared his throat, and then tried to decide on if he could set himself on fire. Charlie was walking towards him, and Percy was attempting to read his facial expressions: unfortunately, Charlie was not making this easy. He'd gone from furious to relieved in about less than three seconds. The first thing that he'd done was grab Percy by the collar of his white button-down, and then shove him to the wall. Then he grabbed Percy's arm and then pulled him into a hug.

"Percy," Charlie wheezed out, his voice full of emotion. _"Perce,"_ he tightened his hold around him. Percy suffocated.

Percy felt his eyes well up with tears. He wanted to suddenly blurt out every single thing that had gone wrong with his life—from the day he was born to the fact that he was now granting the wishes of a women heavily pregnant with twins that he had to take care of by himself. Oh, and he _really_ wished he killed himself two months ago…

Charlie pulled away and Percy suddenly felt cold without his warmth. He was aware of how alone he'd been.

"You're an arsehole," Charlie finally said, his anger coming back to him. " _How_ could you do what you did to our _PARENTS?_ Merlin, you should be fucking glad that I haven't broken your scrawny arse…"

Percy stiffened. "Um… yes… well…" he placed his hands into the pockets of his old trousers.

"Charlie, this is Miss Audrey Claire Brown," Percy gestured towards Audrey, who Charlie somehow neglected to see.

"I scored A*s in all my GSCE's," Audrey told Charlie. "I am currently the owner of multiple bookstores around London. I was part of a community outreach program in my school days as well. I've been accepted into Oxford University! Do you know how low their acceptance rate is? And how many people apply per year? Even abroad!"

Percy raised an eyebrow. Did Audrey just give Charlie her _resume?_

"Um…well…" Charlie looked at Audrey's bulging abdomen. "Congrats on the sprogs!"

Audrey stared at her stomach like she just noticed it was there. "Are you congratulating me on _fornicating?"_

"Yeah, um…" Charlie started coughing, probably because he didn't think a female version of Percy existed. Well, they both had bright red nest-like hair, giant glasses, and body composition of a broomstick. They also accidentally wore the same clothes on several occasions. "I was just about to get lunch! Did… you guys already eat?"

"Do you _really_ want to have lunch with me?" Percy challenged Charlie, whose nostrils started to flare.

Charlie glared at him. "Well, you've got a pregnant woman standing in the boiling weather. _I_ was trying to be nice to her," he said. Percy's ears went even redder. "You? You can suck on the Minister's cock for all I care." Disgusting.

Percy was about to tell Charlie that he'd already scoffed a whole roast chicken just to get rid of him. Audrey decided otherwise.

"I haven't eaten all day," Audrey said, which Percy knew was not true. Just an hour ago, she'd scoffed an avocado and chicken sandwich, a packet of only-potato potato crisps and a strawberry smoothie with no added sugars.

"Seriously?" Charlie looked over at Percy. " _She's_ pregnant, you prat!" Percy very well knew. He put them there!

Great. Now, Charlie thought he was starving a pregnant muggle girl that was carrying twins. Wonderful.

Percy was not happy. Firstly, Charlie might actually begin to wonder if there was something going on between Audrey and Percy—you know, when Audrey would smooth over his tie and clean his glasses every ten minutes. Because that was typically very intimate and suspicious. Secondly, if this did happen, then he'd have to explain to Charlie how he'd managed to knock up Audrey _and_ why nobody in the whole family knew about it. Thirdly, Charlie would tell him off for being a twat. He'd remind him how stupid the row he'd had with Arthur and how he was pompous prat for leaving the family. And how stupid it was that he'd gotten a girl knocked up and _still_ hadn't introduced her to the family. In fact, Charlie would tell him off in front of Audrey… and Audrey would probably side with Charlie. Meanwhile, Percy would die of embarrassment and self-loathing, considering that nobody was going to take his side. As usual.

As if Percy's day wasn't bad enough with Audrey telling him to magically erase her lip scar and protruding abdomen. All for a chance at a bloke that she had a crush on. A bloke that didn't want to go out with her because of her looks—sounded like a real catch! And oh, she wanted to forget all about the bloke that knocked her up. She also made about a thousand assumptions about him, his family, and his life when he had done _nothing_ to deserve that judgement!

He bet Audrey was standing there, thinking: _Charlie is so nice! WHY did Percy leave his family? What a git._

Fourthly, Charlie ate more than the whole Romanian dragon reserve. Fifthly, Charlie was broke, so instead of Percy paying for his—you know, _babies and Audrey's appointments_ , he'd have to pay for Charlie's bottomless appetite!

As they sat in a booth of a restaurant Percy hadn't been to, he seethed in his self-loathing. He was already in a mood.

"Do you know what the fight was about?" Charlie asked Audrey. "He left our parents for _a job_."

"That's enough," Percy hissed. "I left because our father thought I would actually _spy_ on them for a job!"

Percy was pretty sure his family was involved in Order of the Phoenix. So, they probably all trusted each other with the secrets that could kill people, but they couldn't trust _him_ not to prattle on to the Minister about it. How could he sit there and listen to his value being degraded on a yearly basis? Percy wondered… if he really did kill himself, would Charlie still be moaning about the fact that he dared to divide the family? He locked himself in his room for a whole summer, answering Penny's owls. If he died, Percy would be surprised if they found the body in the same day!

Charlie shook his head, like he was even less impressed. "For someone with so many O.W.L's, you'd think that he'd be smart enough _not_ to throw a fucking temper tantrum that manages to rip apart our whole family," he mumbled.

"At least you and Audrey could bond," Percy was cross with her too. "She also disapproves of my behaviour."

Audrey didn't deny his statement. Charlie was amused. "The gnomes in the yard _disapprove of your behaviour_."

"What do you care?" Percy snippily replied. "You and Bill have no right to comment on the Burrow anymore. You two visit every holiday and pretend that everything's the same... you think you know me _so well_ but you don't!"

Percy's voice was shaky. They were at the other ends of the world! They ran away from everything. And Percy was stuck, having to try and take care of the twins, Ron and Ginny—who obviously did not want his help whatsoever.

He hadn't had the time to be a child! By the time that Charlie and Bill were working, Percy was in his _third year_.

"They didn't slam the door in their mum's face, Percival," Audrey reminded Percy. Percy stayed quiet after that.

"Can I invite you over for family dinners?" Charlie said to Audrey. " _I_ haven't gotten that prat to shut up for years."

At least now, there was no way Charlie would make the connection that he'd slept with Audrey now!

As Percy gazed at the menu—pretending that he was actually interested in eating with his stomach sat there in knots, he'd been sneakily glancing over at Audrey. She now reminded him of that temperamental, gorgeous white Kneazle that he'd pampered for three hours. Her attention was solely on Charlie. Audrey thought he was _gorgeous_. And now, with her lip scar gone, she could do anything she wanted! Ignore the fact that she was ill! Date his brother _and_ this sexist bloke that she liked in high school! Drink coffees with _normal_ syrup!

To say that Percy was livid was an understatement. He considered ending his life with a salt and pepper shaker even... but _um_ , he was not _that_ salty about it. Exactly how did Charlie end up prefect when he was denser than a rock?

He couldn't believe that Audrey and Charlie were now _flirting_ right in front of him! And laughing!

Percy knew Audrey's laugh. This was not it. This was a fake, piercing laugh that sounded like every other Slytherin girl trying to get him to lighten up when he told them to go back to their dorms at three in the morning.

"Percival never told me this much about dragons," Audrey finally said. "They are so… so fascinating!"

He wished he could've been bludgeoned to death, because he was just telling her about dragons an hour ago. And he was telling her real information about dragons—not the story of how he'd tried to put a patch of mud on his burns and ended up with bad case of cellulitis for a month because of the bugs growing in said mud. Where was the dragon-related information that _she found so fascinating?_ That dragons could breathe fire, and that when you got burned, it really hurt?

"Percy doesn't know much about dragons," Charlie told her. "Too busy reading rubbish." Audrey went red.

 _Ha. Your perfect Weasley bloke doesn't approve of your need to read fifty books per month to keep your brain constantly stimulated_ , Percy bitterly told himself, trying to bury himself in the menu. _Get a bloody vibrator, woman._

"Pardon me, Charlie," Percy crossed his arms. "But did you know there were _books_ about dragons?" he was sure that he sounded so condescending that even Severus Snape himself would've shuddered.

He never understood Charlie's profession. What did he do with his life? Percy could imagine Charlie just spent his life frolicking around in Romania, chucking Galleons in the fire. Every two months, he required about a hundred or so just to continue surviving! What was he doing with that money? Percy had sent numerous amounts of strongly worded letters to him when Charlie requested a large sum of money just around the time they had to buy Ron and Ginny's school equipment. They were bloody well lucky they got their own wands!

Charlie blurted into laughter, but he didn't miss Percy's tone. "Aye… books! Great for making fires."

Percy cocked his head to one side. "Do you really need to make fires when you've got dragons?" he asked. If you could get them to roast coffee beans at a specific temperature, Percy was sure you could get them to make a fire.

Charlie collapsed into laughter. "Blimey, Percy, it was just a _joke!"_ he shook his head. "Still don't know what those are? I thought you'd find one in one of those giant books you carry around!"

 _You're the joke_ , Percy thought, looking at Charlie. When in reality, deep down, Percy knew that despite the fact that Fred and George were born on April Fools, he was the biggest joke of all.

He turned to the white-haired waitress that was drooping more than wax off a candle. She had so many wrinkles that Percy was glad that her facial features didn't seem to disappear into them! What, pray tell, was a woman this old doing _still_ waiting on tables? Percy almost felt bad for ordering. She honestly could've retired a decade ago. Percy resigned to tip her something generous—which of course, the Charleech would be hypervigilant of.

Percy looked down at his lap. "How… how is everyone?" he asked softly. "Are… are they alright?"

Charlie glared at him. "Seriously? You're asking that? You _BROKE_ our family," he said. "You ruined everything."

And yet here Percy was, sat there having lunch with a bloke that just declared that he, Percy Weasley, single-handedly broke a family that barely seemed to notice he existed at all. Ha. The bloke that _BROKE_ the Weasley family! No wonder Lucius Malfoy sent him an invitation to the annual Malfoy summer gala.

"Do you really want to know?" Charlie asked, and Percy dare not look at Audrey. "Mum's been crying every night since you've left. It's like you _died._ Bill and Ron wish that you actually were dead. Dad can't get her out of the house! Fred and George have been trying to make a special box of Skiving Snackboxes for you... and Gin has been helping!"

Percy stared down at his lap. Eighteen years of doing the right thing disappeared the second he had _one_ row.

"Stop it," Charlie's glittering brown eyes hardened. " _STOP_ pitying yourself! You are _NOT_ the victim!"

Percy wished he could sink even further down his seat. He glanced over at Audrey, who was staring at him with disappointment. Percy wished he could tell her that none of these things were true, but he couldn't.

"Now, Audrey," Charlie looked over at her with a soft expression. "Where were we?"

Audrey laughed that awful laugh. "Um…" she rubbed her neck. "I was about to ask you about your girlfriend?"

 _GIRLFRIEND?_ Percy's head was pounding. He was boiling in a vat of jealousy. Did Audrey read that in a book?

Charlie looked like he was actually considering taking her out. Considering dating a woman that was pregnant with twins. Blimey. Now, _THAT_ was a joke. "But… um… aren't you…?" he gestured towards her stomach and then his ears went red.

"I'm practically a surrogate!" Audrey told Charlie. "The father and I had a bad one-night stand. We were… drinking this strong alcoholic beverage and um… well, we thought we'd used protection but unfortunately, we didn't."

"Ah, alright…" Charlie looked compassionate about her situation. _Your condom probably broke, arsehole_ , Percy thought. "Are you sure that this bloke… didn't take advantage of the situation?"

Percy was about to implode. Why was consent such a one-way street? They _both_ didn't remember what happened.

Audrey was shocked. "Pardon?" she went from a dreamy look to disgust. "There was _no_ issue of consent."

Charlie's ears went red. "I didn't mean to—"

"In fact, _I_ was the one that initiated it…" Audrey's voice softened. Percy was shocked that she remembered _who_ initiated it. It made him wonder what else she remembered about that night. "He was far more out of it than I was—I didn't know at the time. I…acted irrationally the morning after, because I was surprised that he remembered so little of it. So, _I_ simply believed that he was appalled by the idea of… um… thrashing the dragon with me!" she went redder.

Percy and Audrey locked eyes momentarily. Hers pleading for forgiveness and his; confused but oddly forgiving.

He reached over to squeeze her hand across the table and she just melted. She stared at him with a look that sent a shiver down his spine. And he was pretty sure, at that moment, that he was in love with this woman.

"I'd go out with you," Charlie finally said. Percy wondered if Charlie was the one that needed glasses. "If you want."

"I…" Audrey laughed nervously. "I… I probably shouldn't." She looked like she realised how foolish she'd been.

After departing from Charlie, Percy grabbed Audrey's shoulders. They were still just outside the restaurant.

"Please don't see this… this Christopher bloke from high school," Percy said softly, placing a hand on her cheek. He hadn't even noticed that the scar cream hadn't worn off, or the fact that she looked guilty. "Please."

Audrey looked shocked. Hearing him practically begging. "You…" she looked confused. "You _LIKE_ me."

Percy slowly nodded his head. "Yes, I do," he admitted. "I…" _I love you,_ he wanted to say. _Like a twat, I do._

"You really like me," Audrey placed a hand on her shoulder, as if this was a revelation. "You like me even with…?"

When she reached over to feel her lip scar and realised it hadn't yet appeared, she seemed conflicted. Percy leaned down and kissed that space just where her lip scar used to be. "That is my favourite part," Percy said seriously.

Audrey's breath got hitched in her throat. "Percival…I—… what really happened with your family?"

It looked like she was agreeing with Charlie up until the point that he mentioned she might have been assaulted. He supposed that was one way for Audrey to…um…. _sober up_.

Percy's shoulders slumped. " _That_ is not important," he didn't need his day to get any worse.

Audrey reached over to stroke his cheek. He felt himself melting into her hand. "I suppose I revoked my right to ask."

When they got to muggle London, they walked together for a little while even though Audrey had been talking about how much she wanted to go to her flat. They were still walking when the night became starry and it was a little cold outside. Noticing that Percy was shivering, Audrey tossed his robes back to him. He glared at her and then slipped them on despite the stares he'd get from the muggles. He felt his heart beat quicker when he realised that his robes smelled like _her_.

Feeling brave, Percy grabbed her by her shoulders, pulled her to him and then kissed her. _Really_ kissed her.

 _"Marry me,"_ Percy said desperately. Audrey kissed him back and was surprised by how passionate he was. A sad bloke like him that didn't get an erection for anything other than ideas of how to tear down Fred and George's shop. "Please."

As Audrey realised what he'd said, he sunk down so that he was one his one knee. Percy pulled out the box from his pocket; the box that he carried around everywhere. He felt his heart pound even louder in his chest. The night felt long and kind… and he forgot what kind of reports that he had to finish for tomorrow. _This_ felt like a real proposal.

"Ask me properly," Audrey said sternly, pushing her glasses up her nose. "And I will say yes."


	19. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 10

**_Phoenixx Rising_** _: Audrey is extremely confused! i think that she doesn't realise what is actually going on... and well, i'm apparently really good at making the rest of the Weasleys look like jerks. even though i know they mean well!_

 _ **courgette96** : i love your comment because most people so far in the reviews really, really hate the Audrey that i have. but i didn't intend to write her as such a dislikeable character. i think you're the only one that definitely got what i was going for when it came to her. and... well, i can't say that this is going to be better because the last flashback sequence in this fanfic is actually Audrey's death, so of course, Percy is... not happy._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Nineteen: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 10

* * *

Percy and Audrey's wedding was a dull affair. Percy had actually been to more entertaining funerals.

It was one of the most boring weddings that he'd ever been too. The only thing that could've made it worse was if Death Eaters managed to trash their wedding. But if they did, at least they'd have a bit more vibrance to it!

Of course, her bloody wedding had to happen at her beloved bookshop!

Did you know how utterly spine-chilling her bookshop was? Percy would honestly rather get married in the Forbidden Forest or at the Shrieking Shack. He might even consider getting married in Azkaban! At least there, Percy had a chance of _not_ dying of asbestos! The shelves collected more dust than the Potions for Beginners kit he got Ron for his fifth birthday. The woods and walls were all in varying summery shades of black and grey. The velvety, violet curtains looked something that should've been burned in the name of Merlin ages ago.

And worst of all, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get Audrey didn't wear white.

 _It's traditional for the bride to be in white!_ Percy knew his four-foot-eleven fiancé would blend in the background in black.

 _Do you know what else is traditional, Percival? Having a baby after you get married,_ Audrey replied, looking like something a crup would chew out. You'd think that someone would attempt to try and fix their hair for their wedding! _If there is a remote chance that my membranes are going to rupture, I don't want the whole world to know._ Percy was sure if her water broke, everyone would notice regardless of what colour she was wearing because everything would be _WET_.

Audrey also didn't accept his first ring choice. She said that it was _impractical_. And that she was not his property.

Their cake was gluten-free. Percy could still feel it in his throat and it had been a week since he'd gotten married.

After their afternoon wedding, she fell asleep at nine in his bed. He'd just finished making her a pot of pesto tortellini and bought her a case of fine…organic grape juice. In the morning, she used up all his hot water. She threw out ninety-nine percent of his closet because they were 'filled with holes', 'ratty' and 'old'. She also threw out his multiple packets of party rings because the sugar was toxic. She organised all his wizarding books, which sent him into a state because she didn't realise that they had been organised before—organised by subject that was!

She wasn't sure if potions had an expiry date, so they threw them all. She bought healthier snacks for Hermes.

The same night, Percy took her out to the nicest muggle restaurant that he knew. He bought new clothes that made him look smart… and she left him in the middle of their date because a customer called out about a _book shipment_.

Fred and George might actually be impressed that he managed to find someone worse than he was.

He never thought that he would give a Scabbers' arse about his marriage arrangements until he met a woman that didn't mind getting married in the middle of a bookshop that had literal spiderwebs. It was a _summer_ wedding.

Yet Percy was sure he really loved her. He was also sure that this was particularly premature—for him to fall in love with someone in a month and _something_. But there was something about Audrey.

Something about the way that he mistook her glasses for his… despite the fact that his looked like they were falling apart and hers were brand now. About the way that she insisted that she tie his tie for him even though Percy had been tying his own ties since he was ten. About the way that her lips moved when she talked—and how her lip scar changed colour in the different lights. About the way that she relaxed when he inched closer to her, even though she repeatedly denied it when he confronted her about it. About the way that she had her underpants labelled—and insisted that he didn't need cauldrons on his boxers. About the way that she read a book on his couch and told Hermes to shoo away when he came too close to her. About the way that she started to schedule his Ministry presentations and reports on her calendar. About the way that _she said his name_ … she was the _only one_ that could call him Percival.

Percy barely kissed her. He barely touched her even. But when he did, he felt like he'd been smacked by a Bludger and was falling from an incredible height. And he supposed he didn't particularly mind. Merlin, _he sounded suicidal_.

There was one Sunday where he was writing notes for a report. He was used to being in a room with Audrey for stretches of time without saying much to each other besides her saying she was going to pop right down for a coffee, or him saying that he needed help rephrasing vague sentences. Which he translated from another mythical language.

But this time, the silence felt unnerving. Audrey was reading a book and was in her favourite pyjamas.

Audrey didn't actually tell him that these were her favourite pyjamas. But Percy was sure. She only wore each set of clothes once a week, but she wore these pyjamas _twice_. They were old, white pyjamas with little stars on them. They looked very comfy, and she looked particularly cosy on his couch. Which she hated.

"Audrey," Percy looked at her with a soft expression. "Can we talk?"

"Of course, we can talk," Audrey put her book down almost instantly. "I'm your _wife_ for God's sake."

The words bought chills to him. He didn't _feel_ like her husband. He felt like a six-year-old boy that was toying with the idea of marriage. And a baby. And a house that wasn't a flat that didn't have a hungry, hormonal owl living in it.

"Oh," Percy rubbed his neck uncertainly. "Well… um…" he wasn't sure what they should talk about.

She looked amused. "Percival, do you actually have something to talk about?" she teased him.

His heart did a little twinge and he felt like he was trying to impress someone he liked in Hogwarts all over again. When she smirked at him, he felt his heart do a series of impressive Chaser flips.

"I have multiple things I want to talk about," Percy said. "But I'm not sure how to approach them."

Audrey still looked amused. He stared at her scar. The more that he looked at it, the more he realised how discontinuous the lines were. How it practically looked like it was ruining the integrity of her face. He _loved_ that scar.

"How did you get…?" Percy moved his hand to his lip, and then gestured to the place of her scar.

When he saw how her demeanour changed, he wished that he hadn't bought it up. Audrey moved to place her finger on her lip and then smooth her finger over that dark-coloured malformed scar.

 _"This?"_ Audrey asked, as if there was anything else Percy could be gesturing to! Her orange-juice-tasting lips perhaps?

Percy looked down at the notes of a report he no longer wanted to write. He hadn't for years now. "Yes."

He got up from his desk and walked over to her. She curled up her legs. Percy sat down on the other side. He wasn't sure how many peppermint toad packets was between them. Maybe four… that wasn't much at all!

"Well, you've met my mum," Audrey said. It was just then that he noticed that she'd been using his bookmark. She was holding her book like it was something to be treasured. "She wanted to have half a dozen children. I was… a difficult labour. Instead of pulling out her first beautiful baby girl, they took out a baby with a lip split half open."

Percy tried to imagine a muggle baby with a lip split half open. He was the bloke that knew that trolls and vampires and witches existed but couldn't fathom the idea of what she was telling him.

"You could be born with a split lip?" Percy asked softly. "I'd never seen anything like that."

"It's called a cleft lip deformity… I also had a palate deformity," Audrey said. "Do you know what those are?"

Percy thought she might as well start spluttering out words in troll speak. "No," he said. He'd read something about it in a tale of Beedle the Bard. He shuddered, remembering the details of how monstrous the baby looked like.

But Audrey wasn't a monster. Audrey was… Audrey was _his wife_ , he told himself.

"Was it… unsettling?" Percy tried to choose his words carefully, but he didn't think that he managed to be sensitive.

Audrey nodded her head. She didn't look affronted. "Well! Who wouldn't be unsettled seeing a lip split open?"

"My twin brothers," Percy replied. "They might actually think that it's rather…um…. _interesting_."

Audrey stiffened. "Interesting _how?"_ she paused. "Are you sure they wouldn't have sold me off to a circus?"

"Maybe if _I_ was the one that was born with a split lip," Percy mumbled, shuddering.

"That sounds _awful!"_ Audrey looked shocked. "It's one thing being ridiculed by someone out in the bloody streets, but it's another thing entirely to be ridiculed by your own flesh and blood! How am I supposed to be alright with sleeping in the same roof as someone that wants to ship me off to a circus in the middle of the night?"

Percy's ears went red, thinking about how Fred and George have woken him at three in the morning to tell him that Father Christmas told him to take that stick out of his arse. They were _five_. He was _seven_ … he was two years older than them! Why had he been so terrified of them in the first place?

"When did you get it fixed?" Percy changed the subject, glancing over at her lip scar.

Audrey straightened her back. _"Fixed?"_ she reiterated, confused. "I didn't get it fixed until I was fourteen! My family didn't have any kind of health insurance and both surgeries cost a fortune."

If Percy had been born with a split lip, he'd still have a split lip if fixing it cost too much.

"Mum said she had trouble feeding me. Well, how could you feed a baby with a split lip _without_ it just spilling out of their mouth?" Audrey bent her knees and put her hands-on top. "I was a very thin baby and in turn, a particularly thin child. I… didn't have many problems because of it. I did get an ear infection once—a rather malicious one that had me admitted into the ward for a few months. Phonation came very difficult to me. I couldn't speak for a while without scaring other children. So…. I suppose I just read as much as I could."

Percy never even imagined that Audrey had trouble speaking before. She had a voice as smooth as honey!

" _You_ had trouble with phonation, Miss— _Mrs_ Audrey Claire Bro—… Weasley?" Percy went red all over. _Weasley_.

"Had," Audrey smirked at him. "You still do! All you people from Devon lose half your vowels when you speak."

"We most certainly do not," Percy huffed. "Did it hurt? Having a split lip? Did it feel any funny?"

"No," Audrey shook her head. "And how can something that you're _born with_ feel funny?"

Percy thought that his red hair and freckles were funny, and he was born with them. He thought that he fit a little funny in his own family…and he was born into that too. Just because you're born with it didn't mean that you thought or felt like it was natural. Did Audrey feel like her split lip was normal? Did she just not think about it much?

"Is it supposed to look like this after it's been fixed?" Percy asked, as he inched his finger to her lip scar.

As he trailed his finger across her scar, she shuddered. "No," Audrey replied. "It's not supposed to look like _this_. I… was supposed to look _normal_ after. But… there was a complication in one of the surgeries."

When he moved his hand away, she let out a breath that she'd been holding in.

"I thought I would, Percival," Audrey replied. "Be _normal_ that is."

 _I wished I could've been_ , Percy translated in his head. He remembered how Audrey looked like without a scar… he really didn't think she'd look much like Audrey at all. Just like he didn't think she'd look much like Audrey if she'd straightened that Fwooper's nest she considered hair, or got glasses that didn't take up most of her face.

"I'm going to ask you a question," Audrey suddenly cut him off his thoughts.

"Oh?" Percy wondered what in Merlin's name she wanted to know. He didn't have a split lip scar.

Audrey nodded her head. "And you're my _husband_ , so you have to tell me."

"That's fair enough," Percy nodded his head. He stiffened. Was she going to ask him about his funny dress robes? The phials of potions that she threw away? Was she going to ask him why he had a bloody pet owl?

Audrey placed a hand on top of his own. "Percy, if you had a lip split, what would your other brothers do?"

Percy tried to think about it. "Well… um…" his ears went red. "I suppose it doesn't really matter if I have a split lip. They'd treat me the same as they always would've. It's—…just the reason might be different."

Audrey cocked her head to one side. "What do they ridicule you about? I had a split lip. What could they possibly—"

Percy cleared his throat. "The stick up my arse," he said lightly and stiffened. "Your sisters don't like you very much."

"My sisters don't like me very much," Audrey agreed, nodding her head softly. "But they've also lied to my mum about me feeling ill when I told them I didn't want to go to school because of people staring. On the days I went in, Sophie packed my lunches and Valentina walked me to school. They also got suspended once because they started a row with girls that said that I was ready to sleep with any bloke in school if he just asked. They told my father to take me on holiday before my first operation because I was scared of dying having not seen anything of the world."

Percy felt his heart warm a little. He squeezed Audrey's hand. "Good," he said. "Did you like being on holiday?"

"I loved it," Audrey finally said. "Have you ever been to it before?" Percy nodded his head. _"Oh, it's marvellous!"_

Percy smiled weakly. He couldn't imagine Audrey skipping school. The same Audrey that refused to skip a day of work to get married! Instead, she got married in her very own bookshop! Then went back to work the following day.

He'd never seen her animated before. Talking about the things that she'd seen. Anywhere from how the colour of the sky always seemed different, to the warmth in her spine, and all the greenery that she saw. She talked about her hotel room overlooking the sea, and the things that she ate every morning—things she didn't know the names of even now. But she could remember how they felt like in her mouth—almost as if she was still eating them every day. She talked about the museums that she walked in until her feet bled, and the afternoon coffees that came with a serene silence. She talked about the days she spent in the beach, with a book that had more sand than words.

Percy listened to her talk and wondered how it was like to be with her when she experienced all these things.

It wasn't until ages afterwards when she decided they could go pop downstairs for a curry at the Indian place downstairs that he realised that Percy had never even asked her _where_ she went on holiday!

Percy didn't expect their relationship to progress so quickly after that. He supposed it was necessary.

It wasn't exactly infatuation that drove Audrey to suggest they get married in the first place. It was a sense of duty! She had to marry him because it was _the proper thing._ He… was daft enough to want to marry her.

It _sounded_ logical to her. They were both very logical people, but their relationship felt fake. But when Audrey was telling him about her split lip, it felt very real and very powerful. Not many logical people would tell someone they barely knew that they thought that their operation would make them _feel normal!_

Would you believe that she abandoned her reading and he'd abandoned his reports just, so they could sit down and talk for hours? Percy would hardly believe it himself! If he'd not been there.

Percy told her about why he left his family. Even though she'd never asked him after that day with Charlie.

"They didn't trust that I wouldn't spy on them," Percy said softly. "They trusted a fifteen-year-old boy that claimed to see some of the most impossible things—but they…if they liked Harry so much, they should ruddy well adopt him."

Audrey reached over and then held his hand. It was strange feeling her warm hand against his. _"Seven?"_ she repeated.

They had the most awkward kiss in their wedding. Barely a peck really, and somehow, this felt very…intimate. Percy knew that, in theory, he'd have to have slept with her to produce another member of the ever-expanding Weasley clan, but this just felt...

"Yes, we're seven in total," Percy explained, and Audrey just laughed. "What is it?"

"Can you really blame them for forgetting about you…? _Seven?"_ Audrey looked appalled. "Who needs _seven_ _bloody_ …"

"See, that's what I thought," Percy said, feeling an intense ache in his chest. "I thoroughly believed that I just—got lost. Well, that was until Ron bought his mate, Harry, to the house… I honestly think that Ron would die for him."

He thought Ron was more likely to kill him than die for him. The thought of the twins helping Harry made him feel ill. Percy didn't think that anyone wanted his help— _he_ was just there to eat faulty joke products and get his hair turned candy floss pink. Fred and George might be born on April Fool's day, but he was the big fat joke of the family.

"It's not that I want anyone to die for me!" Percy thought that was reckless. "But… it's just… I suppose that—I…"

Audrey cut him off. She kissed him. She actually _kissed him_ , the kind that wasn't initiated by vows or firewhiskey.

"Did you know that you are incapable of stringing together a fluent sentence?" Audrey told him, running her hand through his hair and he practically melted. Why did he melt? It was freezing in her ruddy flat for one. "You—"

Percy cut her off and kissed her again. He snogged a few girls in Hogwarts before—Penelope being his first, but it didn't leave this electric feeling in his spine and a warmth in his stomach.

After they broke the kiss apart, she moved to stroke his cheek. He hadn't even noticed he had his hand on her hip.

"I would maybe skip an hour's worth of work for you," Audrey said, and he went red. "If you were in the hospital."


	20. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 11

_this is the last flashback sequence, which is great because 'Baby Blues... and Pinks' is a long subplot sequence._

 _ **Phoenixx Rising:** i think the point of their relationship is that weirdly enough, they understand really important stuff about each other. which is... interesting to say the least. Audrey is a really convoluted character it's hard for me to describe what she's thinking, especially since this fanfiction is so Percy's point of view unlike some other stuff i've written that switches between perspectives a lot._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 11

* * *

Unfortunately, Percy's inevitable doom was spelled out in cheap grey ink from a second-hand shop when Penelope Clearwater was invited to join a birthday party for one-year-old Timothy, seventeen-year-old Sophie's baby.

There were gaudy-coloured ribbons and toys covering every couch, carpet and crevice in the bloody house. From the shades of Umbridge pink down to bright orange and purple Fred and George inspired goo, Percy was sure he'd just went mental. There were more colours in the house than there were in a box of Honeyduke's Finest pick-and-mix. Everywhere he turned, Percy was assaulted by milk and white chocolate buttons, and strawberry lace. And there were plastic pink petals strewn about _everywhere!_ Percy sat down on the couch for three seconds and discovered he'd managed to sit down on something sludgy and blue. He felt his inner orderly five-year-old scream relentlessly.

After sulking in the one corner in the room that wasn't covered in glitter, goo or gunk, Percy tried not to maintain eye-contact with Dominick least his face would end up being the next ooey-gooey glop in the Brown household.

Currently, Timothy was sleeping away his own birthday celebration in Sophie and Valentina's room.

Penelope paid five Galleons for a pair of black trousers that looked like Percy's second-hand ripped ones. She refused to wear a top that covered more than twenty-five percent of her abdomen. And to boot, she was actively trying to ignore him by sipping on a hot chocolate with marshmallows! Candace stuck in a piece of strawberry lace as a straw.

Candace was glowering over at Percy like he was the one that decided to cover her home in strings of green sludge.

Unnerved by the realisation that Audrey's family looked like they wanted him dead, Percy stiffened.

"Pardon me, Mrs Brown," Percy said. He tossed a look over at Audrey, who failed to notice that everyone in this room wanted to plot his imminent demise. She, however, did conclude that it was disgusting to put a strawberry lace as a sad straw in a hot chocolate. "Have…have I done something to _offend you?"_

Instead of offering him a normal response, she huffed like he was a child that should know what he'd done wrong!

Audrey pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Mum, what have you told everyone _now?"_ she sounded tired.

" _I_ haven't said anything!" Percy hoped that Candace didn't want to have a career in the theatre, because he'd seen Umbridge put on a better performance when it came to Minister Fudge. "I invited him over here, didn't I?"

" _He_ has a name," Audrey put down her mug of hot chocolate and looked at her seriously. "Percy is my husband!"

Candace let out a snort. "I'm sure he is! Did I say that he wasn't?" she replied. Percy had twelve bloody O.W.L's and he couldn't for the life of him find out what he'd done wrong. Sure, he'd slung one up her daughter, but that was ages ago. They were about to have babies together—and she didn't seem to mind knowing that her daughter had about as much interest in them as eight-year-old Percy had at 'practicing' wielding a fake rubber wand!

"Dad, what is going on?" Audrey stood up, and Percy held his breath because she looked particularly wobbly today.

"I have no idea what she's talking about!" Jonathon immediately replied. Which meant that he most definitely did.

Penelope ran her hand through her hair. _"Well…"_ she went redder than the strawberry lace in her drink.

Percy wondered why he was mates with the one girl that couldn't keep her mouth shut for about three seconds! He was sure that Penelope wasn't sorted into Hufflepuff for her ability to keep secrets of those that she trusted. The gift of the gab they called it! Percy had gotten better Christmas gifts from the twins!

"They just wondered why your family wasn't at the wedding!" Penelope said. "And when they asked why, well…"

They couldn't ask about how hard-working he was. They just had to find out about the fact that he slammed his door in front of his mum's face, when she was about to give him a bloody chicken pie for his supper! Speaking of which… recently, Bill just sent him a long-winded letter about how he thought that Percy was making a big mistake and that he was worried about him in the war to come. The scroll needed to be wrapped around _six times_. By the time that bone-weary, overworked Percy was done reading it, the only thing he could write back to Bill was: _SOD OFF!_

"I'm sorry to be so blunt, Mrs Brown, but I don't see how it's any of your—or anyone else's—concern what is going on with _my_ family!" Percy said stiffly, crossing his arms.

 _But I could kill everyone in this room in a second_ , Percy thought. _It's highly illegal and inappropriate, but it's a satisfying thought._

"It is _MY_ concern when you're married to _MY_ daughter!" Candace's voice could've woken Timothy up.

"Mum, you didn't like Percival the second you laid eyes on him!" Audrey said stiffly. "It doesn't really matter what he's done—you'd fault him for just about anything! And if _you'd_ fault him, then so does Dad. And before you know it, everyone in this sodding house _suddenly has this unwarranted, deep-seated hatred for him!"_

"I don't hate him because mum does!" Valentina spat out. "I can think for myself! _YOU_ obviously can't!"

 _"You're going to wake up Timothy!"_ Sophie screeched out in horror. Ironically, louder than anyone else in the room.

Harvey looked irritated. "I can't take a bloody picture in this light!" he yelled.

Audrey huffed. "I can think for myself!" she said. "I have more neurons—and GSCE's—than all of you combined!"

"Sophie got knocked up by a bloke that's better than yours and where's _he_ at now exactly?" Dominick sneered, dressed in all black. It showed off his ribs very well! "Do you see him ecstatic about his son's birthday? If your pretty husband doesn't give a rat's arse about leaving his own flesh and blood, _WHY_ should he give a damn about you?"

Percy was affronted. "Pardon me but—"

 _"I… DON'T… NEED… YOUR…PROTECTION!"_ Audrey screamed. "I'm a grown woman, Dominick! I don't need my own family hating every bloke that I bring into this house!" Wait, how many blokes did she bring into this house?

" _I DON'T CARE_ if you need it! You're getting it either way!" Dominick said. "Because I actually care about you!"

"We all do," Theodore decided to pipe in. Percy hadn't seen him since he found the chocolate buttons bowl.

Percy bet he could get a more peaceful conversation between a herd of dragons and a colony of rabbits! He sighed deeply and just waited for the fuss to die down. He just accepted the fact that Audrey's family was mental.

Everyone was in a foul mood for the rest of the day. Timothy started crying and Sophie screeched at everyone, reminding them that they were all selfish arseholes for waking up the birthday boy in his own celebration. Percy himself had no interest in meeting or tending to Timothy, least he scowl at him too!

That was until he saw that honey-haired, blue-eyed Timothy, wrapped up cosy blanket.

"Is that a split lip?" Percy asked Sophie softly, and he could feel Audrey assessing his reaction.

"Yes," Audrey replied instead, and inched closer to him. "You've never seen one, have you?" Percy shook his head.

It looked like it _hurt_ , but the baby was crying because he wanted to be fed. Not because he had a split lip.

He was so small that he didn't look like he was a year old. He looked like he was barely six months old! Audrey told him that Timothy couldn't crawl, and he still hadn't been fed real solid food. Apparently, he'd just been out of the hospital a month ago, and after Sophie birthed him, he'd spent six months in the NICU hooked to a tube!

Percy reached over to feel the head of golden hair. It was so fine that it felt like Romanian silk between his fingers.

"Don't touch him," Sophie hissed towards Percy, moving her baby away from him. " _He's not yours!"_

Percy felt something sink into the pit of his stomach. He'd never really thought that his children might have a split lip, or that they might spend time in an intensive care unit. "He's—um…very handsome."

"Don't be so bloody condescending!" Sophie replied, and then wandered to the edge of the room, next to the bowl of white-chocolate buttons and one of the three broken tellies that they had. "I don't like you! I didn't like any of Audrey's boyfriends… but I _especially_ don't like you… I-I… I can't believe she married you!"

Percy froze and felt himself getting tense. Audrey's hand was warm on his shoulder.

"Let's go," Audrey told him. "There's a Thai restaurant next to my favourite café. I _do_ have a list of spices that I refuse to consume… and of course, _I'm_ not allowed to have any seafood or dairy products but… well…"

Over the next week, the more that Percy spent time with Audrey's family, the more they continued to hate him.

Once, Dominick locked him into the closet for an hour because he suspected that Percy was eventually going to leave Audrey for a 'poof like Harvey' so might as well do it now. Another time Candace practically forced him to drink a coffee that was so hot that it left Percy unable to taste anything for the next two days without feeling an ache in his jaw. And yesterday evening, Theodore told him that he wasn't good enough for her! As if he didn't already know!

Audrey stopped telling them off. She just accepted it, and Percy had a feeling that he couldn't bring it up with her.

On a Tuesday, Audrey went to her family for Sunday roast and didn't invite him to come along.

When Percy saw her just about to walk out of the door, he was confused. "I'm not too busy!" actually, he was buried into a pile of papers addressed to the Minister about how Harry Potter was a liar. "I can come with!"

Audrey went red in the face. She was just stood at the door. "Um… actually… I'd rather you not come."

Percy cocked his head to one side. "Have I offended you in any way?"

"No," Audrey cleared her throat and pushed her glasses. "It's just that—well, my family is not exactly going to take a liking to you any time soon. And I'd like to have a lunch with them _without_ you getting mutilated."

Before Percy could ask why she didn't just stop them from mutilating him anymore, she was right out the door.

Percy didn't see her family again until Audrey's due date. She gave birth on the twentieth of July at eleven-thirty o'clock at night— _past_ her bedtime, she reminded him multiple times along the way there.

He didn't know how to drive her car, so she did… and she nearly killed them on the route! Merlin be good!

Oh, the whole labour was a blur after Percy saw the midwife smack a scalpel right down his wife's… bodily orifice!

How his mother dared to do this seven times Percy would never know—nor did he want to know! He suspected that his mother might actually hate herself. And how did one four-foot-eleven six-stone woman have _so much shit?_

As if that wasn't enough, the nurses decided to try and use forceps! Take it out! It was a piece of cake! _Literally!_

Percy held his breath for the whole thirty minutes of the labour. He knew because he passed out several times.

Audrey was in the post-natal ward at around midnight. Her room was covered in more flowers than there had been at their wedding and more chocolates than Honeyduke's stocked. Audrey was white-faced, and her hair could make Hermione's look like it was fit for a _Witch Weekly_ ad. Percy wondered how sore her pelvis must be—he was practically getting sympathy pains! During this time, Percy vaguely remembered her telling him that if she had incontinence after that nurse shoved those bloody forceps inside of her, then she was going to make sure Percy changed _her_ diapers too!

Whilst his two healthy babies were being washed and tested, Percy helped Audrey into the hospital bed.

Even after she had just given birth, her family continued to treat him like something disgusting stuck to their shoes.

Right after she bore the fruits of her labour (ha), Audrey started shaking from the blood, cold and enormous amount of pethidine that the midwife must've given her. As Percy dug through Audrey's extremely large overnight bag for something that could cover her up, Candace pushed past him rather violently. The heaving bag sailed across the room!

"What happened in there? What did _he_ do?" Candace said, as if he was the one that shoved the bloody forceps in there! Percy could hardly remember shoving his… well, he hardly could. "Why is it _SO COLD_ in here?"

Percy recovered quickly and moved to grab Audrey's overnight bag. The floor was cluttered with bottles and nappies!

As if they were in a personal rivalry, Dominick dropped down on his knees and started to stuff some of Audrey's things into her overnight bag, including the new undergarments that Audrey had bought off a magazine catalogue that ensured that her uterus would feel the same as it had always been after she gave birth! Apparently, the woman in the magazine catalogue didn't have a questionable looking instrument plunged into her uterus nor did she just try to push out _two_ babies at her first pregnancy! Percy shuddered.

They both reached over for one of the bottles at the same time. Dominick tried to tear it away from him, and Percy exploded when he dropped her bag again. Nappy cream and Audrey's shipping lists joined the mess on the floor.

"Get away from _ME!"_ Percy told Dominick as harshly as he could. "This is not the bloody time! I'm sick of _YOU!"_

He stuffed as much as he could into her bag, glaring at Dominick as he did so. Really? Was _this_ the time?

With Audrey still shaking, Percy unbuttoned his father's old coat that he stole when he left the Burrow. It was shabby and disgusting. He wrapped it around Audrey, who disappeared underneath it almost immediately.

 _"NO!"_ Candace practically shrieked. Because how dare he put a tweed coat on his wife! "She has _ALLERGIES!"_

 _"Mum, you're going to wake Timothy up!"_ Sophie yelled from the other side of the room, holding her skinny one-year-old.

 _"AND?_ What do you want me to do about it?!" Percy acerbically asked Audrey's mum. "I have more allergies than she has, and my jacket haven't managed to kill me yet! I know that you find that very unfortunate!"

Before Candace could snap back at him, Audrey reached her hand out and placed it softly over Percy's.

"Mum," Audrey mumbled very faintly. "Please," she said, already half-asleep. She would've probably fallen asleep in an abandoned shack in the Forbidden Forest from how tired she looked.

Candace sighed deeply. "Fine," it was not fine. "I don't care."

Percy had never been with his mum in the hospital after she'd giving birth, but he was sure this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Within an hour, Audrey started leaking like a tap. One of the muggle healers stuffed his _HAND_ into her uterus to stop the bleeding. What? He couldn't find anything else? Who did he think he was?

Just because he put gloves on it didn't make it official, sir!

Whilst they were about to prep her to take her to the operating room, Audrey's first seizure also happened within the hour of her giving birth. Percy had never seen anything just as terrifying—before he could get anywhere near her, Audrey's father just grabbed his arm and shoved him back to the wall.

" _GET AWAY FROM HER!_ " Jonathon yelled. "Hasn't she had enough of you?"

Percy knew that they blamed him. He was the one that got her pregnant in the first place after all!

"Why hasn't the bleeding stopped?" Candace prompted. "Why is she still bleeding? It's not supposed to be like this. Jonathon, go ask them _WHY_ she's still bleeding! She got rid of them! She shouldn't be _BLEEDING!"_

Them. They went from tiny little babies to _them_ the minute they threatened the safety of her child.

"This is your fault," Candace kept telling Percy over and over again. "This is _YOUR_ fault! _You did this!"_

Audrey was covered in so much blood that by the time that they took her to the operating room, Percy could feel anywhere from nauseated to numb. He wasn't particularly sure what he felt. Dread? _Looming dread?_ Was he _allowed_ to feel dread for a wife that he barely knew? He felt close to being swallowed up whole from the guilt.

The whole thing went in lapses and phases. One second, Percy was stood there giving Audrey his jacket after she had the forceps delivery. The next second, another knife and a looming hysterectomy that Jonathon consented to. Because they couldn't very well ask Audrey for that now that she was unconscious and bleeding to death with another man's gloved hand in her womb just an hour after she gave birth to his twins! No. She was too busy _dying_.

During the waiting period, the nurses bought the babies over—healthy girls with pink faces in soft blankets.

" _I_ don't want to see them," Candace told them. Like they were her babies. "Take them away!" they screamed.

Percy did not feel safe in the room. Candace stared at the babies as if they were the ones that stabbed forceps and instruments and gloves into her daughter's uterus. Candace stared at the babies like they were monsters, even though they didn't have any split lips. Percy just held them and felt like they might as well be someone else's children.

He fed them from the bottles that Audrey had packed. It was as if she planned to be in the operating room now!

That was how good Miss— _Mrs_ Audrey Claire Br— _Weasley_ was! She could tell that she might not be around to feed her babies because she could be sent off to a surgery! But before she ensured that they'd have all the cow milk they'd ever want. She'd even bought a non-dairy alternative just in case her babies had upset bellies.

"You are gorgeous," Percy said to the first baby. "And you're gorgeous too," he said to the second one, least she got jealous now. "I can hardly tell you girls apart... but I think this is mostly because of the exhaustion."

Percy felt his heart swell with something he was not particularly familiar with.

He wished he ad more hands just so he could hold them both at the same time. They were so small and young and beautiful. And Percy suddenly felt disgusted at the thought that he hadn't wanted them until then.

How on Earth did fathers even leave their little babies at home to go to work? Percy honestly didn't know how he was going to turn up to the Ministry tomorrow when these two little bundles of joy were sat there, waiting for him. Merlin.

Meanwhile, Percy also hoped that the new underpants that Audrey bought would accommodate a _stitchy vagina._

They were two eighteen-year-olds that had the social knack of a drunken fifth year Ravenclaw and the emotional availability of Severus Snape. They weren't exactly the prime candidates for taking care of two dew-skinned babies! And it wasn't fair that Percy was sat here, just fine—and Audrey had to carry them for nine months. And Audrey had to be in the operating theatre now, having more instruments and metal things stuffed into her. Percy thought he might as well take her to his father's shed and see what else they could stuff into her uterus…

When Audrey came back to the ward, she was in an oversized hospital gown that barely covered her shaky legs.

"Percival," Audrey said softly, even her jaw was twitching. She was shivering like she'd just eaten a bowl of Fortescue's smack in the middle of winter. "How are your babies?"

"They're alright," he replied. He was holding one now. The other baby was asleep in the cot, but this one was more active. Percy was sort of able to see a difference now. What could he say? _I didn't know that this much love could be inside me? If your mother tries to hurt them, I will end her?_ They didn't have lactose intolerance, but thank you for the option?

Audrey nodded her head. "Good," she said softly. "Have you decided on what to call them?"

"Not yet," Percy asked. He'd never seen her with her skin so white and paper-thin. "How… how are you?"

Audrey just smiled weakly. "Well… _I_ can't really _feel my genitals_." Percy wished that it was because of the weather and not because they were not exactly all intact per say. She smiled. "Do you get it? It's because when we met, I—"

"Audrey, I thought you'd die," Percy cut her off. "I'd… never seen anyone have a fit before."

"How shocking," she just smiled again. "You haven't seen a lot of things, Percival." She reached over to hold his hand, and he shuddered. He might as well have shoved a mouthful of frozen Ice Mice down his throat. Merlin!

"I thought you'd _die_ ," Percy reiterated. He felt like he'd just tried to swallow one of Hagrid's rock cakes. "Stop it."

Audrey remained to be the only person that just gave birth to twins and now had a stitchy vagina that spent more time pacing around the room than sitting on her bed. Percy couldn't imagine the pain. From the episiotomy stitches, the stitches in her vagina, and her stretched out pelvis. She looked like a little girl in a woman's bloody hospital gown!

"Do I look dead to you?" Audrey raised an eyebrow. "Percival," her voice was soft.

"Audrey, I'm—…" Percy didn't know what to even say. His lip was trembling. What could you say when you'd read about her illness? When you knew that she _might really die_ any second now? He was afraid to go to the lavatory!

And if she didn't die, he was afraid she'd go into the lavatory and be in a lot of pain for months. Or years.

"Percival, are you mad at me?" she said softly. "For… for not telling you I was pregnant when… when…?"

Percy didn't know how he could ever be angry at her! He stared at her vacantly. His heart felt like it had been ripped apart from his chest for Merlin's sake! He'd just seen this woman have a fit. He thought that… he _really believed that_ …

"I think this is my punishment for not telling you," Audrey's voice was even lower.

Percy just stared at her, with soft blue eyes. "I wish I could've taken you on holiday after the wedding," he admitted.

Audrey closed her eyes, and he liked to think she was remembering the best parts of her holiday. Though she was paler than an anaemic Inferi, her whole face brightened up and his heart did an impressive Ginny-esque cartwheel.

"That would've been nice," she said softly. "I'm just thinking—if it ends here… then it'll be… a very bad story."

Percy felt like he was about to throw up. "Audrey, _please_."

Audrey shook her head. "Mum won't talk about it either," she said seriously. "But the doctors are practically waiting for it to happen. Do… do you know how lucky I am that I'm alive? Do you know that I should've died ages ago?"

Percy wanted her to stop talking, but _who else_ was she going to tell this to? Her mental family? Her nurse?

"Everyone's just waiting for me to get better," Audrey said softly. "As if in any second now, I'm going to be alright. That I won't have had a hysterectomy if they didn't think about it. Mum told me that she didn't expect me to want babies, but all she keeps on talking about is _feeding_ the sodding things! I wish that someone would take me seriously."

She was shaking. "Percival, _I'm ill_ ," she told him. "I think I'm very, very ill. And I think that… I'm sure that…?"

Percy just wished that he'd know what he'd say. All he felt was his eyes watering. What was he crying for? All his pelvic organs were intact, and all he had to do was shove a bottle in his babies' mouths.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Audrey," was all he could say. "Is… is there anything I could do?"

"Can you stay with me?" she asked. "Just in case it happens! I… I… I don't want to be alone if… if it happens."

"Of course," Percy would quit his job if it meant staying with her forever. If it meant that she wasn't sat there, trying to scribble onto the nursing notes her unofficial will. "Do you want to… help me name them?"

Audrey looked tearful. "I…I would be honoured to help you name your babies!" _Your_ babies, not ours. _Yours_.

Did she anticipate that she would die? Was that why she wanted her lip scar to go away and to pretend that she was someone else? Did she not care that she would die? Did she give up? Did _he_ give up? Percy wondered and wondered…

It was a painful thing. To watch the life of someone that you dearly love literally fade away before your eyes.

He stayed with her for hours. They had a few names picked out too, but Audrey wasn't keen on any of them.

"Maybe Emily? Actually, that name reminds me of this tramp that tried to… well… it isn't really important now," Audrey cleared her throat. "Or maybe Charlotte? Well, most people call Charlottes as Lottie, and if someone dared to call someone that came out of my knitted vagina _LOTTIE_ , I'll personally make sure they'd have their parts sewn on too! Um… uh… I like Prudence, but it sounds obnoxious. And like our babies need an obnoxious name, knowing the personalities they're likely to have… it might actually have been a federal crime for us to copulate!"

Audrey hated every name. So, Percy _had_ to intervene after she decided that Flora should be reserved for margarine.

"I… I want to name one of them after my mum," Percy told her, but he was scared to admit it. Because of what he'd done to his mum. "I… I've always wanted to name one of them after my mum. Since… since I've heard."

Audrey wrote down the word _MOLLY_ which she didn't claim was an awful name. So, he was safe now. Percy stared at the book of names. She had at least fifty crossed out. "I'll… just name the other one after you," he finally said.

"After me? You want to name one of them after _me?"_ Audrey cocked her head to one side. "Audrey or… or…?"

Percy cocked his head to one side. "Or?" he was confused. "Claire?" he asked in confusion.

"I had my name changed," Audrey explained. "My real name is embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than Ignatius?" Percy raised an eyebrow. Audrey gawked at him. "You know my middle name!"

"My real name is Lucy," Audrey explained. " _LUCY!_ That's a mindless tart if I ever heard one."

"That is not a mindless tart's name," Percy said, and then felt his heart swell. _Lucy_. "Miss Lucy Claire Brown."

Audrey crossed her arms. "Don't you _DARE_ call me that!" But she was smiling. _Really_ smiling. _"Ignatius!"_

Percy reached out and ran his hand through her hair. "Lucy," he fell in love with Lucy too. Lucy _and_ Audrey.

"I just hope she doesn't end up being a tart," Audrey said. "Because _this_ Lucy doesn't feel her genitals."

The more she said that she thought that she was going to die, the more he believed it. Every time she said that in front of a family member, they chided her like she was a stupid child that didn't know what she was saying.

"You are _NOT_ going to die!" Dominick told her. "Stop being so bloody dramatic! You should've gone into theatre!"

Valentina was shaking almost as much as Audrey, because she'd seen her have one fit already and she had a post-partum haemorrhage. The only reason she was teetering on the edge of life was because of that hysterectomy.

Oh, and the magnesium sulphate they were giving Audrey to prevent another fit was actually a toxic substance!

For the next few hours, time just passed. Percy did very little besides go to the lavatory, get a cup of coffee and feed his non-lactose intolerant babies around the clock. Audrey just watched him. It was hardly fair to ask this woman that just had a hysterectomy after a difficult labour to pump out a few litres of breast milk for him.

"You look happy," Audrey said. She was trying to read a book, but she was staring at him feeding them.

"Happy?" Percy felt insulted. "You just had a hysterectomy _and_ a fit… Dementors would be feeding off me for years."

"I mean… that the babies, they make you happy," Audrey finally said, looking over at the little girls in their cots. He bet she was thinking about how happy he must be that they were bundled up and pinker than the hideous Love Potion section at Fred and George's shop—Percy had seen pictures you know! "I didn't know I was capable of making something like that… I'm… I'm shocked I have no feelings towards them, but… I feel proud. And _angry_ because I feel so young. How many eighteen-year-olds had to have hysterectomies? And… and… think about dying?"

"Please stop saying that," Percy was trying not to think about it, stroking his daughter's hair.

Audrey shook her head. "Percival, I'm _sure_ I'm going to die," she said. "I don't know how to explain myself. But I know that I look like I'm doing alright—mentally, about dying but… I'm _terrified_. I feel like I've wasted my life."

"How could you say you've wasted your life when you _bought_ life into this world?" Percy asked her seriously.

Percy didn't ask her what she wanted to do with her shop. And she never told him. She spent her whole life revolved around her shop and getting there on time. But right now, in these crucial moments, she didn't think about it not once.

He wished he could've said that he managed to console her to the point where she felt happy and peaceful—about the prospect of dying, or maybe hopeful for the prospect that she wouldn't. He wanted to tell her that better things were to come, but maybe, deep down, Percy knew it too. He'd seen her bleed and have a fit and… some of her stitches were coming out and had to be done up again by the nurses. Audrey looked less like Audrey, even with her lip scar.

Was it bad that Percy couldn't imagine having a _future_ with Audrey anymore?

He felt like they were both waiting for her just to die. And in her final minutes, she just watched him hold them. She held both Molly and Lucy for a few minutes. She looked almost proud of herself for doing that.

As the minutes passed, all Percy could think about was how he wanted a portrait artist to capture her. How he wanted to have a Pensieve and store the memory of her—how she made him feel. He wanted to give her pain potions until she could feel nothing but this numbing peace. Most of all, Percy wished he could trade positions with her.

Because that might help the gnawing guilt inside. _You did this to her, you did this to her_. Candace didn't help with that.

"Those things should've died at childbirth," Candace said to her husband. Jonathon just nodded his head.

"They are her children as much as they are mine," Percy said to them with hard eyes.

Percy kissed her maybe once or twice. He couldn't remember, but it didn't matter. It wasn't really much or enough.

The last thing that she was doing was reading a book. And Audrey was very much alive in that second, but when he looked up from the babies, she became even paler. She was, in fact, so pale that her skin was practically translucent against her body. Her monitor went funny, and she managed to draw out strangled breaths and shaking. Her whole family was screaming out, shouting at everyone— _blaming_ everyone. Blaming him. Percy was numb as he watched her fit again. Even with the magnesium sulphate that they gave her, _she had another fit_. He was sat between the two cots of his babies. What was he going to do? Give her the kiss of life? Profess his love for her?

As Audrey seized right before his eyes, Percy's heart sank when Molly started to cry.

 _"SOMEONE SHUT THAT BABY UP!"_ Candace screamed out, with Molly's screams echoing the room _"SOMEONE KILL IT!"_ Percy held his baby almost immediately when she said that. What? What did she say?

 _It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault_ , he kept saying over his head as he looked at his unaware baby.

He, The Great Wizard, did _nothing_. He just watched her face turn blue as her body contracted. It was horrifying.

With Molly still screaming, Dominick tore Molly away from Percy's arms. Percy's heart stopped and hammered into his chest, seeing his pretty baby girl into Dominick's arms.

 _"YOUR PRECIOUS LTITLE GIRL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN MY SISTER, HUH?"_ Dominick yelled.

Percy's hands were shaking. "Dominick, please… please give her to me."

"So, you're listening to me _NOW_ , right?" Dominick shrieked. " _You_ don't care at all that she's having a fit but…!"

He took his Lucy into his arms, trying to keep them from shaking. From disturbing her. Audrey was seizing for four minutes now maybe. They were putting IV lines in her, but she was turning very blue.

Percy's heart hammered in his chest. "Dominick," he glanced over at Audrey, lifeless on the bed. He felt this pain crippling him on the inside. What could he have done? He couldn't stop this from happening. _"Dominick, please."_

"Dominick, let go," Sophie said, her arms around Timothy with big eyes. "Dominick, she's just a _baby_."

Dominick inched closer towards the window, and Percy's eyes widened. He was going to—!

"Dominick, _NO!"_ he had no time to think of colourful insults or think of anything else—this man was genuinely thinking of throwing his daughter outside the _WINDOW_. _"DON'T YOU DARE!"_

"Don't you hurt that child!" Jonathon was appalled. "If that baby dies, then Audrey would die for nothing."

 _"AUDREY IS NOT GOING TO DIE!"_ Candace shrieked at her husband.

Sophie gave Timothy to a shocked Valentina. She was shaking as she tried to pry the baby from Dominick's arms, but he pushed her away with his elbow. Dominick pulled the baby out towards the window.

Percy's heart leaped when Dominick started shaking her. _Shaken!_ His baby! His baby that was only a few _hours_ old.

"I will kill you," Percy said to Dominick, and in that moment, he really meant it. "If you don't let her go, _I swear_ …"

 _"AUDREY!"_ Candace shrieked, when Audrey's monitor turned into flatline. Ten minutes of CPR later and multiple shots of epinephrine couldn't save Audrey Claire Brown. Percy couldn't imagine how it must feel like to watch your daughter die—and he didn't want to see it. _"WHY DID YOU STOP? WHY DID YOU STOP?!"_

Just as Dominick was about to drop Molly, Percy managed to take her. And then slam Dominick to the floor.

Dominick laid on the ground, speechless as he stared at Audrey's form. "Audrey?" he looked shocked. "Audrey?" he looked about a decade younger than he actually was. He looked like he was shocked, like he really didn't expect this to happen. Percy wondered what he assumed the events would be: _he'd kill Audrey's baby and her fit would stop?_

"Miss…" Percy looked at his wife lying there, frothing at the mouth and blue and _gone_. "Lucy Claire Brown."

Yes, Miss Lucy Claire Brown. He already missed her. He would miss her forever.

" _What_ did you call her?" Dominick said, looking somewhat unhinged and shaking so much that Percy genuinely believed that he was going to seize any minute now.

"I… I haven't heard that name in years!" Dominick laughed emptily. "She… she told you that? She told you to…?"

Percy just took Molly from Dominick's arms. "She told me a lot of things," Percy said curtly. "She was _my wife."_

It was as if something clicked with Dominick, and he looked down at the ground. "You… really liked her."

"I loved her," Percy didn't even notice that he'd been crying. He could barely think straight. All he could hear was Jonathon wailing at the other side of the room, and Candace stood there in disbelief. _"She was my wife."_

She turned around to face Percy, as if she wanted to murder him. "You… _YOU_ …"

"I'm sorry," Percy honestly said. And he meant it. "But… I… I didn't kill her," he said, as if he was trying to convince himself. He could barely stand to look at her. He wished he could go to the Wizengamot tomorrow and tell them that he didn't kill her. There was no way that he could've-

Candace stopped shaking. Then she calmly said in a voice that still haunted Percy's nightmares, " _Liar."_


	21. Baby Blues… and Pinks Part 12

_the next subplot is after this. this chapter is a little short i'd admit, but there really isn't much to add on!  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-One: Baby Blues… and Pinks: Part 12

* * *

 _What next?_ Percy thought. He didn't tell them that he hoped for an excruciating death after what happened to Audrey.

The memories hit him faster than a Bludger knocking him off his broom and sending him into a Penelope-esque coma.

He'd probably seen her fade away a thousand times in his head. Her dismissive, quaint voice was a distant echo in his giant head. He shamefully forgot how she sounded like three months after her death. He forgot what she'd been wearing a year after. Percy used to live in her apartment before he started to have nightmares about Dominic flinging his children off the window whilst he slept. He could still smell her floral perfume choking him in his sleep and remember how her hair felt like at his fingertips. Her pillows, which were fluffier than a Kneazle (a dead, dead Kneazle), kept him up at night. He couldn't believe that he was _married_ to her for Merlin's sake.

What in Godric's name was he thinking? Getting married that young? Having children _at that age?_ Was he daft, or did he just want to outdo his father? _Haha. I am a Weasley just like you! I can make irrational decisions too!_

And now, he will have Candace's voice echoing in his brain for the next four months. Just when he'd gotten rid of it. Did you know how expensive that amount of therapy was? Percy knew he should've just downed a couple of Dreamless Sleep potion instead of going to this hypnotist that gave him potions infused with lavender oils.

But at least his father didn't have to worry about their fight scarring him. He had plenty other things to think about!

Of course, there were a few unnecessary details that Percy had skimmed over in his story telling. He did not have to tell them that it was exactly a week later that he had declared nappies a toxic substance, or the fact that he had the hospital tag them because he couldn't tell them apart. Fortunately, he had unrelenting, unresolving grief as an excuse!

 _That's enough of that_ , Mrs Rosenstein came by to borrow sugar and found him having a mental breakdown. _It's alright. You're doing alright. It's going to be fine. How about you go get some fresh air and I'll look after the little ones for you?_

 _I have fresh air,_ Percy replied. _I cracked the window open!_ And then he closed it because windows gave him nightmares.

Percy, of course, refused Mrs Rosenstein's help for the first three months of agonising crying (oh, and he supposed that his babies were a handful too). He didn't even employ Mrs Rosenstein as his babysitter until he ran an extensive background check. Do you know how _long_ that background check took? Rosenstein knew McGonagall when she was a baby. She also probably achieved Voldemort's quest for immortality! But he had no other choice. He was slowly becoming undone trying to shell out money for a muggle nursery—and what in Godric's name were _pencils_ and the neon-coloured mould that they played with? And that lady telling him that it wasn't a safety hazard!

Horrible. It was horrible. Percy shuddered at the thought. And who made their children nap at noon? Unacceptable!

"Percy?" Bill's voice tried to bring him back to reality. Percy was probably staring at the wall. _"Perce?_ Um… tea?"

Percy grabbed his teacup and then downed it all in one go. Oh, how wonderful. It was colder than Audrey's corpse!

 _My wife died. My child was nearly flung off a window. Why… why isn't anyone saying anything?_ Percy was angry.

"Thank you," Percy said, clearing his throat. _For nothing._ He felt more nervous than he did in his own Potions exam.

But right now, it wasn't exactly like he was sat there in a Potions exam, or a Transfiguration demonstration. What did he expect? That they would be bombarding him with questions? How could there be? But their faces were blanker than Fred and George's Potions exam. He was sat with his family, telling them a truth he could not even bear to think about. How could they move on from this? There were loads of question that Percy could've asked. Instead he just poured another cup of tea for him, because telling the story of his and Audrey's nontraditional and unconvincing romance dehydrated him. By the time that he filled his cup, he felt Bill slap his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Bill's voice was soft. "It's alright," and Percy was not sure if that was supposed to help him relax?

He felt disorientated. It was as if he just drunk some Dreamless Sleep. "Pardon?" Percy stiffened.

"You're… um… you're…" Arthur tried to gesture towards Percy's face. Yes, he was a genetic anomaly. He knew—

Before Percy could finish pitying his appearance, Arthur grabbed a tissue from the table and gave it to him. Percy was confused but that was before he felt his cheek become wet. He rubbed it off his cheek like he'd just been told he'd been stung by a glumbumble. His cheeks turned red. How embarrassing. How-how- _HOW!_ He couldn't believe that he was crying! _Him!_ Percival Ignatius Weasley! In front of his family? He'd rather be sent to Azkaban for murder.

"You're not so bad," Ron said and broke Percy out of his trance. "I guess." That was a _huge_ compliment. Percy knew.

"Alright?" Percy asked, sounding confused. _Is everything alright now? Is my heart and soul enough for you?_

"Yeah, alright," Bill smirked. "That was a _long_ temper tantrum. Now, welcome home." _This is wrong,_ Percy thought.

"Well, I didn't appreciate how you made me sound like a moron, but I guess I'll take it," Charlie replied, and then ruffled his hand through Percy's hair. It was amazing that his hand didn't get stuck in between curl 324 and curl 325, where Percy was sure that a piece of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum was permanently a part of his skull. "We've been waiting a long time for you to come back… Merlin, you're more stubborn than mum!"

Percy glared at Charlie. He smacked Charlie's hand away and then glared at his tea pot.

"I doubt it," Ginny mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Percy was 100% sure Molly said no to something in the last week. Percy hoped that it wasn't that Ginny decided she was eloping with Harry. Not that he hated Harry (as much), but Ginny was his _sister_. And… you know, Percy wasn't fond of anyone looking at his sister in that way. But he supposed the whole saving the universe from becoming extinct thing had its merits. But like he'd let anything like that come and try to swoop up one of his daughters. Not even when he was dead. He would return as an Inferi no doubt!

Merlin he was sick in the head. Already, he was ready to murder any possible suitors and they were only _four!_

"Wonderful," Percy mumbled. He rubbed his eyes. Then the most wonderful idea in the world just happened to pop into his head and it was flirting dangerously with him. "Now that I've been forgiven… may I have two weeks off from the agonising, impossible job that I've been forced to do? The one that's become fuelled by your spite and hatred?"

Percy had become so anguished and sad that he probably qualified as a Dementor's optimal retirement plan!

"Yes, of course," Arthur looked a little surprised that Percy actually asked him that. "To bond with your… _um_ —"

"No, no," _sod the bloody children_. Percy rubbed his eyes. "Absolutely not! I am not bonding with anything _but my bed!"_

Percy was sure that his bed needed a warming charm because it was colder than the sodding tea that he was drinking!

Fred and George collapsed into laughter. Everyone was back to normal! His pain was so hilarious.

Fred was turning blue. "Merlin, Dad! You… _you broke Percy!_ " he said jovially. "What did you do? Did you ask him if he could go one day without acting snooty? Did you tell him that they were going to make badge-polishing illegal?"

"I bet he asked Perce to try to write a joke," George said. If Percy had an appendix, it would've burst from laughter!

 _Ha ha my child nearly died_ , Percy was sure if he rolled his eyes anymore, they would actually permanently look towards the other direction. Percy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Fred. If looks could kill, he'd have died in the second wizarding war underneath a pile of rubble. _That_ would surely make him stop laughing now, wouldn't it?

Oh, if Percy had the time, he'd be able to write a book! He was so close to starting his own bloody revolution…

"I am _not_ a toy to be broken," Percy said though he was starting to lose it. He could almost understand that joke that Fred and George made in 1985 about that broom and the three wizards. It was unbecoming of him! "I have _feelings_."

"Don't worry, Perce," George slapped him on the shoulder. Percy choked. "We know. Big-headedness is a _feeling_."

Just because a word was big didn't mean it was a fancy word! He'd love to see if the muggle playwright known as William Shakespeare ever used the word big-headedness in one of his scripts. Perhaps Macbeth? When he decided to do his famous, never-ending soliloquy about murdering the king, someone told him off for his big-headedness?

"Welcome back home indeed," Percy's teeth were gritted.

He supposed he was going to have to owl Daphne and tell her that… well, he supposed he had to tell her that he was finally taking that vacation that she'd told him to take. She might actually have to work now. Pitiful.

His heart warmed momentarily because Molly and Lucy had never met any other twins before. He didn't want these two Hogwarts rejects to be their first example, but what choice did he have? It was either them or he supposed that he'd have to ask the Patil sisters, of whom he knew absolutely nothing about except the fact that they were put in separate houses. He didn't really care much for what houses his children would end up in, even though they could probably pass their O.W.L's now. Which was more than Fred and George could say for themselves!

He'd been reading _Cram It!: How to Soar on Your O.W.L_.s to his daughters to ensure they did not… cram it!

After he sat in there for a few moments, he tried to get used to the fact that he was part of his family again.

He did not _feel_ like they'd accepted him. He felt an emptiness in his chest, and he was still about as anxious as ever. Merlin. He could barely remember what happened the rest of the evening—besides, Molly and Lucy being quiet. They clung onto him with desperation, and they weren't the least bit interested in meeting any members of his family.

They wanted biscuits from the tin but were too scared to eat any. They didn't know why the clock was so big.

Percy decided that it was time to leave the second that Molly shrieked because Ron tried to fix her hair. _Father, he was an icky boy and he touched my hair!_ Apparently, it had not percolated through Molly's mind that Percy was also _an icky_ _boy_.

This was not a regular four-year-old girl. This girl read scholarly journals and knew what the world _percolated_ meant.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," Percy said through gritted teeth. He hoped that they would never do it again.

His daughters were currently cutting off the circulation to his legs with the way that they were clinging onto him. When he told Merlin that he wished that women would find him irresistible, _this_ was not what he had in mind!

"Well, before you go—I thought that I should mention… since everyone's here…" Bill looked around like he was harbouring the world's biggest secret. Percy rolled his eyes, because he knew what he was going to say even before she said it. Daphne knew everything about every woman that ever existed, especially ones that were prettier than her.

In fact, she owled him at three in the morning a few times just to talk to him about _those icky bitches!_

Fred nodded his head. "Fleur is going to leave you because she can't stand that you're in love with your hair?"

"She's been shagging Roger Davies? You know, that bloke that became the youngest most successful businessman in the world?" George said. Percy was glad he hadn't left yet. Let Bill enjoy a taste of _their_ medicine—did you hear about their Skiving Snackboxes? If you were going to market sweets, the least they could do was sell fudge that didn't have the consistency of Hagrid's rock cakes. Percy accidentally ate one and it was still jammed in his teeth! "Especially since he told The Daily Prophet last night that the only thing he's regretted was not getting into her knickers?"

Molly looked disgusted. _"George!"_ well, not his daughter Molly, who looked disturbed just the same. "Take that back!"

 _"Knickers,"_ Lucy repeated, and Percy was not the least bit surprised. She was giggling. " _I'm_ wearing knickers."

Bill stared at Lucy like he'd decided that he'd rather not have a baby (come on, Percy knew that Fleur was pregnant. It was obvious, so why didn't he just come out and say it?). Lucy was unnerved by Bill's staring, so she was clinging onto Percy's clothes in a way that made him feel like he'd have to cancel his acupuncture session. Thank you, Lucy.

Percy wished that a broom would whiz straight into the Burrow and knock him unconscious for the next three days.

"No," Bill was staring at Lucy, looking horrified. "Well… um…Fleur is…" budding? Having her own set of flowers? Blooming? Defiant against asexual reproduction? Daphne's frenemy?

"Expecting?" Percy offered, and Bill looked offended. _Expecting a night out with Roger Davies!_

Bill looked irritated. "How did _you_ know that she—" come on. What else did he want to say? You found a new way to wear mutilated dragon parts? You were going to attempt to be vegan but couldn't give up your dragonhide boots?

 _"That's amazing!"_ was Arthur's immediate, excited reply. Percy felt his blood stewing. Did he _have_ to say that tonight?

Fred and George looked over at each other. "Are you sure it's _yours?"_ Ron asked, and Ginny scoffed. "What?"

"It's a little insensitive," Ginny told him. Really? Because Percy was almost glad that Ron said it. As if Merlin would be so kind as to help disintegrate Fleur and Bill's marriage into nothing… Percy was _not_ that lucky.

Percy was obviously shocked. He hadn't seen _that_ coming a mile away. "Congratulations."

"Really?" Molly—his mum—looked excited. "Oh, that's just wonderful! I've always wanted to have grandchildren!"

Percy cleared his throat, and Molly immediately flushed. She'd had one named after her! What more could she want? As far as Percy was concerned, they got to meet the twins at a perfect time… after they'd been toilet-trained!

Molly immediately went red. "Oh, sorry love," she said, looking down at the twins. "I'm just not used to you two!"

 _They feel the same way, mother_ , Percy wanted to reply but kept to himself. He didn't want to start _another_ fight.

Did he really just tell them that they nearly flung his baby off a window and nobody said anything about it? Percy felt truly shocked. There were things he said tonight that he still hadn't told his bloody diary! But it was fine!

Bill's wife was expecting! Percy hoped that the babies were _mostly human_. How-how could they…?

He'd made up with his family now, hadn't he? So, why did he still have this unresolving hatred bubbling underneath his skin? He supposed that they were now even. So, _why_ did he feel like he was still cheated? He couldn't believe that he'd kept them fighting for so long… and he had to do _this_ by himself! Why did he have to raise two little girls by himself? This was absolute rubbish. They didn't seem that angry about the fight! So, why couldn't they apologise first?

Because Percy was still stewing in his hatred right now. He was not that wrong. He was not wrong for _four_ _years_.

He… he couldn't wait to owl Daphne to complain about them forgiving him! How dare they?

When they got to their flat, Percy couldn't stop thinking. It was like his mind was determined to remind him of all the wrong things he'd done in the last year alone.

Percy thought about Audrey's old flat, which he'd been paying rent at for _years_ now. It was actually quite appalling.

Percy was exceedingly poor, and he spent money on a flat for four years that he hadn't even set foot in since he died. Him, the bloke that couldn't even shell out an extra sickle for the spinach and cheese quiche over the mushroom and tomato one he hated. He hadn't even visited her grave, because he was so bloody terrified of seeing her family sat there. He could just imagine Dominic's vacant eyes looking up at him. He'd jab a skeletal finger into one of his children's eyes and blind them forever, because _why should they be able to see if Audrey couldn't' see?_

Molly and Lucy were exhausted, because avoiding his family took a lot of effort. Percy would know.

"Hey," Percy stroked Molly's hair, which were a mess. He'd taken out all the 'pretty ribbons' just before he left the Burrow. His mother tried to excite them by telling them that she'd knit something for them. Right now, Molly's hair was atrocious. She looked like she was wearing a bad strawberry-blonde mop that was about to be thrown into a junkyard. Lucy looked very pale and her face was extra round and chubby. They were _perfect_. "You're very quiet."

"I'm _so... so tired_ I'm gonna die," Lucy said weakly, and Percy smiled, feeling his heart warm.

"Me too," Percy felt a relief wash over him, as he realised he didn't have to go to work tomorrow. But then a terror overcame him as he realised he didn't want to go to work at all. Not _ever_ again. He absolutely hated his job. The thought of the amount of work that he had to do when he came back made him wish he was dead.

"Me three," Molly added on, and they didn't even make it to their beds. They collapsed on the chairs in the living room.

Percy was about to tell them off, to tell them to go to their beds to sleep, but then he just got his knees, laid his head against the soft, pillow-y chair and drifted off to sleep. He knew that this was not the best position to fall asleep in. But he decided that it was fine. Because he did acupuncture.


	22. We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry Part 1

_i've been so tempted to wonder how many people would read this if i actually do a really giant time skip with Molly and Lucy being significantly older? like old enough to actually work in the Ministry. i'd, of course, have Arthur as the Minister again for a second round but just to have them grown up and into the crazy Ministry fold. i'm not sure about that, but even if i was going to do that, it'll be so far away... but it'll be a seriously, seriously long fanfiction if that was to happen. because i'm already planning on loads of plotlines with them right now. i just haven't really decided which ones i'm more seduced by..._

 _this is another 'episode'. i actually have these subplots written out and there's a lot of them, so i have no idea if i'm going to do all of them or not._

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : i think it's because it's a weird dynamic it'll take time for them to shift... it's gonna take a lot of time to repair their relationship, but that's what Daphne's for!_

 _ **Dugleik** : well, i feel like toxic family drama is the best kind of drama!_

 _ **Guest** : it has its moments, but yes, it can be super sad. but the next few chapters should be a little on the lighter side! though i should maybe change those genres to something else. i just can't help it being a little sad... _

_**clairebxrton** : i can't believe how crazy detailed this comment is. i probably read it like a million times already. i died when you quoted Percy directly. i don't hate either families but because i probably have mini backstories and reasons for why everyone reacts in a particular way. i think honestly Arthur just isn't aware of how much work he truly gives Percy. though i really hope that their relationship does level off in the workplace (i know i'm writing it but honestly, this story was supposed to go so differently it's almost shocking what it's become. just like Muggle Me. i honestly think sometimes i should finish writing the story and then post it with a good summary!) but i absolutely love Percy Weasley angst. it's literally all i ever want to write._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Two: We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry – Part 1

* * *

Percy stiffened almost immediately when Daphne Greengrass threw a chocolate frog at him for no reason. He supposed that she'd run out of things to throw by now—she'd already thrown her purse, her heel and her nail file!

"Percival, you are making it _very_ difficult for me," Daphne had to do up her hair. _Shocking_. "I have work, you know."

Percy ran his hand through The Unruly Thing, which was exponentially unrulier now that he'd been sleeping.

"And you are making it very difficult for me, Miss Greengrass," he told her. "This is _my bedroom_. You are _not_ allowed to be in my bedroom. This is-this is _uncharted waters."_ Percy scanned just to make sure she couldn't see anything personal. Like, Merlin forbid—…oh wait, he didn't own anything personal. Well, it was still his _bedroom!_

Daphne looked around his room as if she was appreciating it for the first time.

"When did you move in? Yesterday?" she scoffed. "I've bought white underpants with more personality than _this!"_

Percy was glad that Dorothy's mum took Molly and Lucy for a sleepover weekend in muggle London. He didn't want to explain why he had a woman standing in his _bedroom_ talking about her underpants. Honestly! And disgustingly enough, he'd _seen_ Daphne's underpants. He doubted that that cream-coloured thongs constituted as _white underpants_.

"Daphne, I am very uncomfortable," Percy replied stiffly. "I do not wish to continue this conversation."

He wished to be Obliviated to the point where he did not remember his name. Even if Marcus Flint did it!

"What a shocker," Daphne rolled her eyes. She threw a couple of papers at him and he sighed. He grabbed his glasses off his table. He couldn't believe that Daphne saw him in his oversized yellow broomstick pajamas. "This is for you. I came here in my break specifically to get this to you. Did you know I had to-to… work today? It's nauseating."

Percy expected that she'd hand him his work, not a brochure for a weekend getaway in a wizarding B&B in Bristol.

"And I got you _this_ ," she slammed another piece of parchment on his bed. It was stamped. It was official. Knowing Daphne, she'd probably gotten his father to sign off on him going to Bristol. Percy opened the scroll and his heart practically stopped in his chest when he realised that she booked a therapy appointment for him. "Percival?"

"No," was his immediate reaction. "I am not going to therapy with _my parents!"_

Daphne looked bored. "Yes, you are," she pointed to the top of the scroll. "It's court-ordered. I had my ex-boyfriend do this for me as a _favour_. Do you know how hard it is to agree to go out with a bloke that has only _three_ teeth?"

Percy was about to explode. "You mean to say that the Minister has a therapy appointment?" Daphne _gossiped_.

"Well, if Skitty Skeeter wasn't the one writing The Daily Prophet article…" she shrugged. Percy couldn't believe that _this_ was in The Daily Prophet. He couldn't believe that Daphne ruined his life like this for him. "Didn't you owl me drunkenly at _three_ in the morning two days ago? You told me that you told your parents that your wife's brother nearly threw your kid out of a window moments after _you saw her die?_ And that you were having nightmares about it?"

Percy rubbed his neck. Merlin, leave it to him to drink himself into oblivion and then methodically sleep it off.

Daphne sat at the edge of his bed to unbutton the top button on his pajamas. Her hands were shaky.

"They didn't talk about it," he felt drowsy. "Oh, and surprisingly, you were right about Fleur being pregnant."

Daphne looked satisfied because she was sure that Fleur was gaining weight, even though Fleur probably hadn't even noticed it. Merlin, how did Daphne notice _two bloody pounds?_ For Godric's sake! Percy could put on half a stone before he felt like he might've put on weight—which he _did_. And he had no time to try to lose it. Wonderful.

And Daphne also told him that you didn't put two pounds this early. How she must be having twins!

"Oh, _please_ , Percival," Daphne rolled her eyes. "What did you expect them to say? I'd be speechless if Astoria disappeared for the face of the Earth for five years and came back with a story that looks like a playwright's first draft."

Percy opened his mouth to disagree but… he agreed. He'd be speechless too if this was any of his other brothers.

"It's not that they don't care," Daphne reminded him, grabbing her purse off the floor and pulling out a comb. She dared to venture into The Unruly Thing without any of Primpernelle's magical hair creams. "I know you don't know that much about joke products, but you don't drop all your dungbombs in one toilet. It'll explode and you'd have to move from your gorgeous five-story mansion into a shack in Bristol that's next to an appalling bed and breakfast."

A dungbomb exploding in a mansion and moving to a B&B in Bristol? _Why_ did this B&B in Bristol sound familiar?

"Al…alright," then Percy looked back at the brochure to the B&B. Which was in Bristol. Oh Godric. "You don't want me to go to a bed and breakfast for my vacation! You want to take me to a shack in the middle of Bristol and-and _force me to meet your parents_."

"No," Daphne said very seriously. "Just my mum! My father's in Azkaban." Oh, of course, how could he forget?

Percy had to ask her: but what did dungbombs have to do with his unrelenting remorse and tragedy?

Daphne just rolled her eyes, obviously shocked that he had so many O.W.L's. "When you're catching up someone on five _years'_ worth of your life, it's probably important that you don't talk about _all_ the tragic, sad things that happened in one go. Because there's a point whereby after, any normal person would have no bloody clue what to say. And they probably never will. Because your parents don't know how to deal with all the tragedy, it will destroy your relationship even more. Especially since you tend to stew discontentment in a way I've never seen before."

"Thank you," Percy replied. He still had no idea what she was talking about.

Daphne looked like she was close to giving up on him. "By the way, ninety percent of your misery is self-inflicted."

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell it to the Supreme Court_. He rubbed his eyes. Percy had been asleep for most of the last two days. After the first twenty hours of sleep, Mrs Rosenstein woke him up because she was scared that he'd join Merlin and the Order with how he kept going. She let him know that he'd snoring like her first ex-husband, the one who unexpectedly died in his sleep!

Apparently, being ten stones overweight did not bode well and he choked on his tongue and died.

Percy attempted to tell Mrs Rosenstein that he was not going to choke on his tongue in his sleep, but she insisted on the fact that he looked an unnatural colour (well, that was hardly unusual, wasn't it? He was a marshmallow with red confectionary sugar for hair and was dotted with anaemic chocolate-chips.)

Even his delivery wasn't all that natural. His mum took enough pain relievers to make a potion addict zealous!

Apparently, the healer was sure that Molly was giving birth to a dragon by the sounds that she was making.

When he was growing up, his mum liked to remind him every now and then, just in case he forgot that he was the reason that she'd had that tension-free tape (he did not want to be reminded where _that_ was). But his big-headedness was attributed to a vacuum delivery that failed three times before someone decided to bring out the magical forceps. Knowing how those looked like now, Percy shuddered to think that something so disgusting was anywhere near him.

What was mum even complaining about? As far as he saw, she was perfectly normal, and he was _Bighead Boy_.

When Daphne asked him where his daughters were, his answer seemed to surprise him.

"I'm pretty shocked you let your daughters go to a slumber party," Daphne said, impressed. "It's so… normal."

"Thank you," Percy was surprised at Daphne's compliment. "I strive hard to appear normal."

Last night, he kept waking up at the night and looking at his daughters' rooms. He'd been reading a manual on how to use a fellytone. He'd called the 'operator' multiple times to ask him about Dorothy's mum's number, but apparently, he had to know her last name! If he wasn't so drowsy, he'd be anxiously awaiting his daughters to come home.

" _Striving to be normal?_ I thought you were striving to be a stuffy, self-deprecating narcissist," Daphne scoffed. A self-deprecating narcissist? How dare she? "I did better on my Potions N.E.W.T."

Wait, she had an O.W.L in Potions? You really could do anything these days…

Percy still couldn't believe that she wanted him to go to therapy with his parents. And let The Daily Prophet know about his personal problems. He couldn't believe that she was standing there in his bedroom! This had to be illegal, right? He didn't invite her into his flat, and he most definitely did not invite her into _the bloody bedroom_ …

Daphne grabbed his hand and pulled him up from his bed. "You have so many issues."

Percy looked around his bedroom where he had five heaped stacks of The Daily Prophet. "I know."

Daphne managed to drag him to his own shower (which he also thought was an intrusion of his personal space). Being as successful and driven as he was, he energetically fell asleep in his bathtub and only woke up with Daphne knocking on the door and telling him that she would literally apparate in there if he did not get his arse out of the bathroom. He had to wash his face five times just to try and rub the sleep out of his eyes. His day had just begun, and it was six in the evening. Which, of course, meant that his day was ruined and there was nothing that he could do to fix it, so he might as well just hang himself for violating one of his cardinal rules: not being _lazy_. If he ate now, what meal would it be?

Fortunately, Daphne had it figured out for him. When he walked out, he was dressed in his aesthetically pleasing Quidditch pyjamas that was filled with more holes in it than a piece of Swiss. Daphne looked like she gave up on him.

That morning, Lucy was in a foul mood because he did not allow her to eat three kilos of Peppermint Imps for breakfast. Molly's hair looked even unrulier than The Unruly Thing. It gave him great anxiety to think of trying to tackle something that had the consistency of a sick, weeping Whomping Willow. And even so, he was sure that his children were nowhere near as messy as he was right now. He looked like something that a giant squid spat out.

"I need your help," Daphne finally said, running her hand through her completely straight and gorgeous hair. Shocking that she could maintain that silky velvety texture even when she actually had to work. "Your dad's plans on funding the biggest homeless shelter has gone awry. We just don't have the funds to build one to the scale that he wants us to."

Percy yawned into his palm. "Let the Malfoy's fund it." He must be seriously out of it still if he thought that that was a good idea. If he told his father to beg the Malfoys to give him money, he'd be sent to Azkaban.

Daphne gave him an _are you serious look?_ before crossing her arms. "You think your father wants his arch nemesis to fund it? Considering that they're just going to use this golden opportunity to attempt to restore their reputation."

"Galleons do not grow on trees," Percy rolled his eyes. "What else does he suggest? Praying to Merlin for help?"

Percy just cleared his throat. "If most department heads in the Ministry agree that the Ministry should be accessing money from the Malfoy's, then we can fund it," he explained. He did not know if this was a worse idea than having to stick a nasogastric tube in his nose. He was so burnt out from work that he couldn't think straight. "You'd have to do favours for each department to earn their support, but it could be well worth it in the end." He stretched and heard his shoulders crack. Daphne looked disgusted at the sound. Excuse him. Not everyone had time for remedial yoga!

Daphne's shiny honey-coloured eyes glinted in the light. "I already talked to some." Wait, _what?_

She rolled her eyes at his shock. "I had the same idea," she said. "About the Malfoy's funding."

"What in Merlin's name are you here for if you had the same idea as me?" Percy did not understand.

Percy stared at Daphne in disbelief. _Wait, she had the same idea as him?_ Merlin, he must be losing it! He had twelve bloody O.W.L's for Merlin's sake. Daphne worked in the Ministry because she wanted an excuse to wear pencil skirts.

"Miss Greengrass?" Percy knew that this was not going to go very well by how worried she looked.

"Um… well…I got most of the departments to agree but the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures absolutely refuses," Daphne explained, and Percy could see the problem. They were a huge department. If they did not have their support, their case was not strong enough. "And they're such a big department that we need their support."

"I'm aware," Percy said. She was stalling. "And…?"

Daphne just shrugged. No big. "They want you to round out the beasts that went rogue after the war."

Percy looked down at his body. He just wanted to make sure that he did not have bulging muscles and an ability to bounce back after he'd been scorched by a giant flaming dragon. No! He was not _that_ brother.

"I'd have to check my calendar," Percy said bitterly. "I don't know if I'd have the time between trying to sing lullabies to deadly sirens and trying to breed my temperamental Norwegian Ridgebacks with my Hebridean Blacks!"

"I knew you were going to be like this!" Daphne sighed. "Can't you just be a _little_ adventurous?"

Pardon him! Was she was disappointed in him for not jumping in to lend a hand?! Why didn't she go? She could probably knock down their self-esteem enough to make them easier to catch! And what was he _catching them with?_

"Some people are going camping to catch some Erumpents," Daphne explained. Because catching something that large and violent was exactly like trying to catch a few pieces of salmon! She showed him the brochure that he had and then flipped it over to show a disgusting forest that was filled with enough dirt to make his insides squirm.

Percy could barely trap Scabbers in a cage. How was he going to do that with an Erumpent? Find a muggle TARDIS?

"They said that they'd be honoured to consider our proposal if you'd go on with them," Daphne said, batting her eyelids at him. To others, she probably looked alluring. To him, she looked like she was about to have a seizure in the middle of his flat. It was most inappropriate of her as a guest! "Besides, it's like a vacation, isn't it? And-and-and you get to meet my mum! My shack is the absolutely perfect place for a nice weekend in the woods!"

Percy just stared at Daphne like she was speaking in Ancient Elvish. He'd rather be stomped on by an Erumpent and thrown off the balcony like the missing couch from his flat. "I'd rather eat one of George's marinated socks."

Well, he did need to diet…and besides, he had no time to do this. He was too busy being anxious about every little thing that went wrong with his life. He was extremely good at it. He had an N.E.W.T in biting his nails into shapes.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You're going," she said it with the finality of his mum dragging him to Aunt Muriel's house.

Percy huffed. He was not going. He had made his position clear, didn't he? So, _WHY_ was it that twelve hours later, he was sat here in this disgusting tent in the middle of nowhere with a bloke that reeked of cheese and onion pasties? And worst of all, _HOW_ did Daphne Greengrass managed to convince him to take his daughters with him on a camping trip to catch rouge beasts? As Percy looked back at a Molly and Lucy shying away from other children, he sighed.

Did you know that this was an _all-bloke trip?_ There was so much testosterone in this tent that Percy felt disgusted.

The other blokes around here said that it was character-building. Well, his daughters were the only females here! Percy was disgusted at how sexist this was. One of the blokes told him that _they_ should be doing the cooking. Percy was sure that that infuriated him long enough to grow his first chest hair. He hoped that the Erumpent liked scoffing sexist men.

Molly was sitting with Holden, some muscled behemoth that made Viktor Krum look like… well, like Percy.

"What do you think?" Molly would be a great politician. She'd managed to convince Holden to vote for werewolf rights and that strawberry mousse should be banned in about ten minutes. "Because there's only _one_ right answer."

Holden looked like he was retaking his O.W.L's. "It's an opinion, isn't it? Which is better? Chocolate or bananas?"

"No," Molly said flippantly. They were talking about ice-cream flavours. "If you answer wrong, you're a _bad person_."

Percy was sure that she got that from him, and it was why Daphne felt like he should go to therapy. Lucy was lying on his side, reading comic books. She bought enough to open up a bookstore in the middle of the woods.

Hearing the eerie silence outside, Percy knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. If his daughters had so much as a papercut from this trip, he'd never forgive himself. Percy sighed… well, the author of _Parenting Without A Wife, Crup Or Copious Amounts of Firewhiskey Instructional Manual_ would surely be disappointed. But it wasn't his fault! The blasted bastard didn't even bother writing a chapter about what to do when he took his children out to hunt rogue magical beasts!


	23. We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry Part 2

_i changed this from a drama/humour down to a angst/family, because this is going to probably get a little darker and i know that it'll be terrible if there's a chance that there's two character deaths (Audrey being already one) and i have this labelled as humour. i did intend to make this more light-hearted as time goes on but i can't seem to shut off the part of me that really wants this to be angst-based! i'm torn between two major plotlines in this story, one of them being related to Audrey and the other one being related to the children. it'll be overkill to do both, so i'm trying to pick one!  
_

 _ **comment replies:**_

 _**ChocolateSauce18** : i do have a problem with italicising things. i think it stems from me hating seeing blocks of text without anything to break them and this helps break them for me... but i'm trying to make it a little less as time goes on. thanks for letting me know! _

_**Son of Whitebeard:** you guys really read the fine details!_

 _ **Phoenixx Rising** : yes, he should've but writing that wouldn't be half as fun! i think Percy is a little neurotic if it means not seeing them for a few days! i think he'd easily be convinced to take the risk, especially if Daphne tells him that 'normal children go camping all the time.' _

* * *

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Three: We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry – Part 2

* * *

 _You are doing this for the good of others. There are people that are suffering_ , Percy tried to tell himself as he suffered through ten bad jokes about the stick up his arse and how he should loosen up before he gave himself haemorrhoids.

This weekend was not going well. The department tried to convince him to take a bath in the murky-looking lake (Percy decided to use cleaning charms instead). He refused to eat anything that they found growing in the woods. He was so dehydrated that he was seeing stars from dead Dumbledore's purple robes.

Unfortunately for him, Lucy and Molly were enjoying it! It was horrible… he had no excuse to go back home.

Not even stumbling across a rogue mythical being was a good enough excuse! Because he was with the department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Ergo, he was literally came hunting for Erumpents with _all_ the possible safety precautions! This trip was probably safer than a day in a Herbology Greenhouse with batty ole' Miss Sprout! And it was most definitely safer than telling eleven-year-olds to walk up staircases that could lead to their most eminent death. Horrible. Absolutely horrible… Percy didn't know how he was going to make it through.

He thought of owling his parents and telling them that he hadn't actually forgiven them, and they could suck on his prefect badge until it was perfectly polished… but decided that maybe that was not very mature.

During the last twenty-four hours, Molly and Lucy took baths in murky lakes, which had managed to increase Percy's risk of dying from a cardiac event. They ate everything they saw, and then rummaged through his bag for jelly sweets and fruit scones. They managed to send his anxiety soaring by trying to climb trees, run around in circles around Whomping Willows, and dig up disgusting flobberworms from the dirt to try and encourage Holden's son, Clark, to eat it. Which he most definitely did. In fact, he ate enough that he spent the rest of his night vomiting.

"Clark is our new best friend. He proved it when he ate flobberworms," Molly told Percy when he'd asked about it. "We're making a list of why he's so much better than Dorothy. You can read it and mark it when we get home."

 _If we ever get home_ , Percy thought sordidly. _I hope you mention that at least Clark washed his hands before eating flobberworms_. Dorothy did not.

Dorothy was an uncouth little cow. And her mum was even worse. That buxom-bosomed blonde was about as sexist as Jacob, Rob and Danny were. She'd kept telling him off for turning his daughters into such butch characters. Yes, Percy thought to himself. He'd made them so butch! Buying them rose-coloured robes and weaving glitter in their hair!

"I'm Clark," he told Percy, running his hand through his blonde hair. It was amazing that this child came out of Holden. He looked like he had veela blood in him. "I hope it's okay that we're friends, Mr Weasley."

Percy did not like how that sentence was worded, but not all five-year-olds read _Advanced Arithmanc_ y before bed.

"What are your qualifications?" a moody Percy asked. He had drunk up all his wine in one and a half days. Pitiful.

Clark didn't understand what he meant, so Lucy inched in closer to him and explained the word 'qualification'.

"Oh, I understand! Well… I will be the greatest best friend ever!" Clark waved his pale, thin fist in the air. "When we go back to London, we're going to play Exploding Snap and-and-and we're going to eat biscuits until eleven at night!"

Percy raised an eyebrow and Clark shrunk a little bit. _"WE NEED CLARK AS OUR FRIEND!"_ Lucy shrieked.

"We will eat biscuits at the right time only. Before dinner? Before dinner! And we will play Exploding Snap and be in bed before nine," Clark corrected.

"Alright," Percy said, and he saw them hug each other. Percy only allowed it because he was sure Clark was bent.

The next morning, they went on long hikes whilst three department members—Jacob, Rob and Danny—were busy catching disgusting fish to cook it for lunch. Percy wished that he bought more than just a bottle of wine. He was about as anxious as he was when he tried to put on his first pair of nappies without having an overt panic attack. Percy thought that his life was in shambles and then he read that an Erumpent was native to Africa! How in bloody blazes did the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures cock up so much?

"Did you find anything?" Jacob asked Percy as they leafed through the woods at eleven in the morning.

"Lyme disease," answered Percy indifferently. He was covered in rashes and discolourations. He'd seen less scarred werewolves, but he digressed.

Rob nodded his head. "Well, bag it and send it to the St Mungo's for a sample!" Percy wondered if he'd use Rob's head as an international standard for how thick he believed cauldron bottoms should be. "Everyone's sick nowadays."

"Yes, I'm aware," Percy replied. "I believe that war against You-Know-Who had something to do with it."

"Ah, that's Voldemort!" Clark mentioned, nodding towards Lucy and Molly as he stuffed sand in his mouth. Well, that was one way of trying to add the necessary fibre in your diet! It was amazing that the whole department flinched as if You-Know-Who could really just materialise out of thin air. But at least the new generation had no bloody clue. Percy didn't know how to feel about that. "Dad told me all about him. He said that if it wasn't for Barry Spotter, we'd all be dead."

 _"Harry Potter,"_ Molly corrected, placing her hands into the pockets of her pretty dress robes. They looked horrible now.

"I've never met a Harry Potter before," Clark shook his head. "Couldn't he shave before he started pottering about?"

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. "You're so stupid," she said, and Clark nodded his head. "But it's okay."

"Your hair is the worst I've ever seen," Clark replied back, nodding his head. "But I still like you too."

Percy, of course, was torn between finding this inappropriate behaviour and wondering if Clark needed glasses because his Unruly Thing was significantly worse than Molly's Unruly Thing.

They spent the whole afternoon looking for the blasted things. You'd think it would be easy to find a gigantic creature with a horn the size of Daphne Greengrass' arse, but you'd be surprised!

Speaking of Daphne Greengrass, she had met up with them, wearing the thinnest, shortest black frock he'd ever seen. It had the most stereotypical patterns of Erumpents he'd ever seen. Percy wondered if she was just about to offer herself as bait instead of popping by just to make sure that he wasn't too depressed (ha)! But it was nice to see that during his herculean task of trying to keep three children happy, she'd managed to get her Galleon-coloured hair even more golden and beautiful. As his children and Clark skipped through the woods with child-like innocence and nativity, Percy wobbled in self-pity and hatred. He, too, would have beautiful copper curls if he did not have to babysit three five-year olds that liked to shove anything from dirt to doxies in their mouths.

"Good afternoon," Daphne's good mood made him want to strangle her with her long, flowing hair. "I'm sure that after a day of trying to catch an Erumpent, you'd want to relax at my beautiful home. I hope you realise that this is a rare opportunity. I don't just show anyone that pathetic miserable hole I grew up in!"

"I am not on speaking terms with you," Percy said, his face deadly serious. He rubbed his eyes. "I am miserable."

Daphne looked over at the Molly, Lucy and Clark, their hands covered in dirt and mud. Percy did not want to even think about how he was going to clean those stupidly expensive robes when he got at home. He was wearing trousers that had holes in them from the back that he was trying to hide with his Ministry robes, but they were so irritating.

"You're always miserable," Daphne's eyes were locked on Molly and Lucy laughing gleefully when Clark fell on his face and into mud. Obviously, the blonde pretty bloke was not his. "Are they yours? The girls I mean?"

It just hit Percy that she had never been introduced to his children before. "Yes," Percy said. "Molly. Lucille."

They ran to him, and wrapped their arms around him, which made his internal germaphobe cringe. Did you see how much mud they were pasting onto his Ministry robes? Thank Merlin he had the sense to bring his old, mostly destroyed Ministry robes and not the new sparkly ones that Mrs Rosenstein had given him!

"This is my assistant," he gestured towards her. She failed at her job description, but he did not have time to look for a replacement.

They clung onto him even more, which made him sigh deeply. Percy ran his hands through Molly's hair, whilst at the same time rubbing Lucy's back. Daphne kneeled to the floor, which only served to confirm the fact that she couldn't have found a shorter frock. "Hey," Daphne spoke in the most baby-like tone possible. "I work with your father in the Ministry! I'm also his very good friend. My name is Daphne Greengrass. Why don't you tell me about you?"

"No," Lucy replied. Her voice was muffled because her face was in his Ministry robes.

Percy did not agree with her statement. She was not his friend. As she talked, his children clung onto him even tighter, practically cutting the blood supply to his legs. Molly whimpered into his legs, as if she did not just tell Clark that he lacked brain cells.

"It's alright," Percy said to them, with the soothing nature of an exhausted saber tooth tiger. "She won't bite."

Daphne gave him a suggestive look. Her mind went straight to the gutter. Shocking.

"Hi!" Clark waved towards Daphne. He was drooling all over his face, and it was hard to imagine that the being that Merlin constructed so beautifully was now covered in more mud than a pig in heat. "I'm Clark!"

Molly and Lucy looked at each other apprehensively, but then looked away. "He's so stupid," Percy heard Molly say.

You know what was stupid? Taking your five-year-old children to hunt down Erumpents!

"Daphne's like Clark to you," Percy tried to explain to Molly and Lucy, who looked like they were perturbed by the fact that Clark was greeting a bloody stranger. "Do you understand what this means?"

"Uh huh… she's dumb too!" Lucy replied in the loudest whisper Percy ever heard. She might as well have belted it out at a microphone over at the Great Hall. He'd honestly heard quieter speeches from his father, as he tried to talk about laws and rights that he could not fully grasp the implications of because his heart was so pure and white. Lovely.

"They're definitely yours," Daphne looked even more charmed. She really was dumb if she was flattered by that.

Percy stiffened. "What is that supposed to mean?" all he could think about was the fact that his parents would probably be appalled to see how he was bringing them up. He spent so much money just spoiling his daughters with pretty dress robes. Which he then took them out to the woods in. Somehow, that made him feel so shameful that he just bent the knee whenever it came to his daughters. It was like he was under the Imperius curse! How did that make any sense? Why was he so ashamed? His parents willingly allowed Ron to consistently get into trouble with Harry bloody Potter! They didn't cripple themselves with guilt over what happened to Ginny in her first year. But he felt sick because he couldn't say _no_ to them?

"You were surprised I passed more than five O.W.L's!" Daphne reminded him, rolling her eyes. "Did you really forget that? I thought that your massive skull stored all the evidence that confirms you're smarter than everyone."

"Oh," he relaxed. He was still so exhausted because he'd barely been sleeping in his tent. "Fine."

Percy still wanted proof that Daphne had ten O.W.L's. That was as many as Hermione... and Hermione spent her time in Hogwarts with her nose stuck in a book. Meanwhile, Daphne spent her time with her face stuck in the lavatory at five in the morning after a great booze-up on a Tuesday evening. She orchestrated the great knickers debacle of 1994 that still made him sick. And mind you, he woke up the day after he slept with Audrey, covered in _tattoos_ … that he couldn't even afford!

Daphne then cocked her head to the side. "What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing," was Percy's automatic response, but Daphne had this almost uncanny ability to know when he was lying about how he felt. She gave him a look that told him that he was not falling for his… um, _fertiliser sample from Norway_. He swayed on the balls of his feet as if he was five years old again. "Well… I…I thought it was a jibe at my parenting."

"You _do_ realise that I was bought up by a Death Eater, right?" Daphne asked. "I turned out fine!"

"You turned out fine?" Percy's eye twitched. She had an unhealthy habit of buying expensive make-up at nine am instead of reporting to work. She 'forgot' to wear knickers most of the week. She drank a bottle of wine with him every night. "Beside myself, I-I don't think there's anyone in the Ministry you haven't slept with!"

"So what?" Daphne just shrugged. "Oh… you're so cute. You don't want your little girls to turn into tramps."

"Well, I'd prefer that… yes," Percy mumbled under his breath. "Can we not talk about this in front of them?"

Well, at least Astoria was somewhat sane. She didn't stomp into the office at ten in the morning and ask him for a few Galleons to go to the spa when she was supposed to be working. Ten bloody O.W.L's and she asked him for money! Him! The one broke bloke that wouldn't spare a sickle for coffee! Did you know how many other dimwits she could easily con out of house and home? He didn't even know why she bothered batting those excessively curled eyebrows at him! She was getting nothing out of him except maybe a trip to A&E to make sure she wasn't having a fit!

They perked up at that and were talking to hushed tones in each other.

"What's a tramp?" Clark asked, and Percy sighed deeply, wanting to strangle Daphne. "What's so bad about it?"

Before Percy could answer that question, Percy heard a sound that made him want to cling onto Daphne. Shivers went down his spine even though he was sweating through his arse. He had probably grew another grey hair and he was sure that his heart stopped for at least ten seconds. It was one of the top worst sounds that he'd ever heard: right next to the sound of Lucy whining at three in the morning about how she was going to die if she didn't drink water _NOW_ , and the sounds of the twins snickering as they plotted to kill him with a large sentient sock.

Lucy shrieked in excitement. Was this girl really his daughter? Where was the intense fear and apprehension? The spinelessness? The cowardice?

"Dad, we found it! The Erumpent!" Lucy clapped her hands with delight. Percy tried not to soil himself. "What do we win if we catch it first?" she tugged at his robes and pointed in the direction of the sound. Because Percy obviously couldn't hear the monstrous sound of that-that beast. How did people eat that? How was it a luxury product?!

"Why do you think that that's the Erumpent?" Daphne didn't understand.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Well, we are trying to hunt for Erumpents that escaped during transport from Africa to London, right?" she explained to her as if Daphne was, indeed, denser than a piece of Charlie's awful Bakewell tart—which shocked him because it was supposed to be soft. "What else is going to make this sound in London?"

"They escaped from transport?" Daphne was not following. "That's why they needed us to catch them?"

Percy wished he could throttle her. "Did you not read the fourteen-page accident report that the department wrote? In which they managed to mitigate any responsibility for the fact that a vicious beast escaped under their care?" how did any of them pass their _CARE for Magical Creatures_ O.W.L?

"What?" Daphne looked shocked. "This is _their_ fault? You're helping clean up their mess? I thought that—…"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're doing," Percy replied back dryly, shaking in his tattered loafers for the last thirty seconds. He couldn't tolerate the sound of that horrible beast and he was afraid that he was going to die. His heart was pumping so fast that he was sure that he was going to faint. This faint feeling, of course, served only to exasperate him further because if he collapsed, who was going to carry a six-foot tall male? Five-foot-seven Daphne? Three five-year-olds? An African beast with a giant killer horn?

"Why should _YOU_ clean up their mess?!" Daphne shook from fury. "The Minister should just suck it up and ask Malfoy for help! Merlin, I thought it was bad enough that that the Minister's major concern with the Malfoy's donating money is that he's afraid it'll help fix their reputation…this-this is unbelievable!"

Percy patted his hand on Daphne's shoulder, and she shuddered under his touch. "Welcome to the Ministry."

"I'm writing a report after all this is done!" Daphne yelled. Percy was not sure if he was impressed or terrified. "This violates at least five Ministry codes, and I don't even want to know _HOW_ they managed to get this accident report past the Minister in the first place! Do you know that this problem, which is relatively contained, could be so much worse? This is _THE LAST THING_ that the wizarding world needs right now! A deranged Erumpent stampeding all over Diagon Alley!"

Truth be told, Percy had never considered Daphne Greengrass attractive until then.

"I'm sorry that I made you do this," Daphne covered her mouth with her hand. " _AND_ you're supposed to be on holiday!"

"Oh yes, I forgot about that," Percy nodded. "My holiday because I was about to collapse from exhaustion?" And he was rapidly turning suicidal. That too.

Before Percy could say anything, the sound of the beast echoed through the forest and an Erumpent came charging towards them. He pushed Molly and Lucy behind him, Clark tripping as they hid behind his robes, peering with excited eyes as if it was a bloody unicorn. Daphne moved close to him. "Percy?" Daphne said, and he looked down to meet with her eyes. "I love you," she said.

Percy suddenly wasn't very afraid of the gigantic beast anymore. This could be his last words, and all he could say was, "Are you sure?"


	24. We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry Part 3

_i also wonder if i should skip to the future where arthur is also the minister (again) and molly and lucy are much older... of course, there are still going to be at least three plotlines before / if that's going to happen. after this one, there's going to be a Fred and George-based plotline, Percy fighting with a plant and something to do with the Chinese Ministry of magic... well, just so you know. honestly, i did the maths and if i was going to do all the mini subplots i have in mind, this is going to be a 60+ chaptered fanfiction and that's not including some major plotlines i want to add in! um... well... i hope you enjoy long fanfiction!  
_

 _oh, this is the first non-Percy based chapter. hopefully more to come after this. it's in Daphne's POV._

 ** _comment replies:_**

 _ **finkles89:** i love writing them because they're so blunt! _

_**Son of Whitebeard** : aye, fearful beasts they are. _

_**clairebxrton:** oh please, i enjoy the live reviewing! honestly makes my day even! i just don't know how to respond to it. about Daphne with the three-toothed bloke, i think that her pickiness goes down quite a bit when she's intoxicated... or maybe after midnight. i love writing percy, but he's always so 'i am so sad' so it's always important to make sure i remind my readers that 90% of what he thinks is literally just in his head. he derives so much from a situation it's actually uncanny. oh, i'm not sure if anyone told Percy about Scabbers... oops. i'm so hoping to skip ahead, because i want to show off the kids!MollyandLucy and the older more refined Molly and Lucy. to be fair also, i don't think Percy mentioned anything about Molly the first staying with them. i think he's still irritated about the family-based interaction.  
_

 _i know! (about Percy just introducing his children to Daphne). this story was actually meant to be written to be more fun, but i can't resist writing all this strong angst. i love that you feel that way about Daphne... weirdly enough, i don't think i've read much of Daphne fanfiction to know about the popular tropes, except generally, people (and myself) do make her promiscuous... but i'm so glad that you like the idea of them pairing together. in general, i absolutely like the idea of pairing Percy with weird characters but in particular Slytherins. i think they pair really well especially because they'd probably get Percy's ambitious streak more than anything. i think i read way too many stories about Penelope and Percy fighting about it and Percy/Audrey divorcing because of it. but i honestly believe if you write it well enough, you could write any pairing whatsoever. i'm dying reading the end of the review, mentioning reading the story for the next 6 years. god, i hope it doesn't last that long!_

 _**Phoenixx Rising** : i'm shocked nobody called me out on maybe making Daphne/Percy a pairing... yikes.  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Four: We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry – Part 3

* * *

Daphne Greengrass felt Percy Weasley grab her hand and apparate them away. The first thing she saw was Lucy Weasley throw up what looked to be sticky gummy worms—at least Daphne hoped that they were candy.

Lucy whimpered, grossed out by the pale-coloured vomit. _"THIS IS SO GROSS I'M GONNA DIE!"_ she shrieked.

Percy reached out for her and she threw herself at him. "I'm never eating again," she sobbed. "I want to go home!"

Molly helped Clark up, who had vomited more flobberworms. "That was so amazing," he said. "Wow!"

"Oh Merlin, I thought that we were going to die out here," a terrified, red-faced Daphne wheezed out. They were in the middle of nowhere. The dark trees were twisted and mysterious. It reminded her of the Forbidden Forest. "How… how did you even think clearly enough to apparate us without splinching yourself? You could've killed us all!"

Molly looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Gryffindors," she mumbled, and Percy stared at her, agape. _Gryffindors?_

Percy stared at her seriously. "You're welcome, Miss Greengrass." Oh, her gaunt knight in shining discount armour.

"Thank you," Daphne went in and hugged that stupid git. Percy became stiffer than a corpse. "Oh, Percy."

She buried her head into his shoulder. She inhaled the very intoxicating (gag) scent of parchment paper, bitter coffee and that horrible cheap cologne that he wore that could make poor pregnant Fleur Delacour suffocate for a week. Daphne could tell that the last time Percy Weasley bought something for himself was probably a discounted bag of sweets he splurged on in 1995 after he finished his exams. But he also felt so familiar and comforting.

"Get off me," Percy hissed coldly. "This is so unprofessional," _blah blah blah_. She saw his underpants.

 _"HEY!"_ Lucy shrieked, trying to reach for Daphne's very expensive hair. "That's _MY_ Dad! _GET OFF HIM!"_

"I thought that we were…" Daphne moved away from his warm body. How embarrassing. She clung on him like his daughters did. "I can't believe I talked you into this! Am I really that persuasive? Wow, I didn't even know I was that cunning and perceptive! I wonder if I get you to polish that broomstick up your arse," she complimented herself.

He looked like _he_ couldn't believe that she talked him into it. "You're so modest," Percy glared at her. "But I'd be worrying more about the broomstick of a certain three-nipple cretin you decided to lock lips with last Ministry Ball."

Daphne's jaw dropped. She didn't realise that on the inside, Percy Weasley was dirtier than a mountain troll in mud.

"That is so gross I'm gonna die," Daphne replied to him, and he flushed deeply. Merlin, did she really have feelings for this snotty red-haired bloke that probably wore his socks to bed so that his little prat feet didn't get cold?

"That's copyright material, Miss Greengrass," Percy said. "I'll have you bought to the Wizengamot for your actions."

"Are you sure you're going to have the time to write the report, Mr Weasley?" Daphne smirked. Percy scowled.

Daphne was smiling, looking down at the ground. Percy Weasley was like that vile oversized jumper that everyone told you to throw away because it was full of holes. But it was the first thing you slipped on after you took off your push-up bra, and you were all alone. It was the only thing that made you feel like you were really at home.

"Thank you," Daphne finally said, meaning it. "Thank you for…thank you for everything."

Percy's face softened dramatically. When Percy wasn't scowling or wallowing in depression, there was something so human about him that it almost made his three-am complaints about the 'real' problem with the flying memo system in the Ministry justifiable. Almost that was. Daphne was not sure what possessed him to send her a ten-page report about how muggle Spandex were _not_ standard Ministry wear. Nobody else seemed to mind! Especially the Minister.

"Did… did you mean what you said? About loving me?" Percy asked. No, she just wanted a laugh before she died!

"Yes," Daphne replied without hesitation. The bastard had the eyesight of a blind flobberworm, but he had the ears of a vampire. What was she going to do? Take it back? "And well… um… I-I have a proposition for you, Mr Weasley."

"You know the word _proposition?"_ was that a joke? Daphne Greengrass was sure that he was joking. "Let's hear it."

Daphne smirked at him. "If you take me as your date to the Ministry Ball instead of your assistant, I'll do a whole day's worth of work without a single complaint." Percy eyed her suspiciously. ""I swear on my polka dotted bikini."

Percy just looked over at Molly and Lucy, who was staring at him with glossy eyes. "What do you think?"

"She's really pretty," Lucy decided to say. Her big brown eyes were shining in the forest light. "I don't like her."

"Oh, the verdict is—" he was cut off when Daphne placed her finger on his lips. He stared deep into her soft blue eyes for a few seconds, and Daphne, who once slept with a whole Quidditch team, felt as naked as ever.

"I'll see you next week," Daphne replied, staring at his freckled jaw. "I want to see you in Slytherin green."

"I'll see you in the office tomorrow," Percy replied. "I want you to leave a little to the imagination, Miss Greengrass."

"Yuck! This is so gross I'm gonna die!" yelled Molly, gagging as Lucy and Clark laughed gleefully.

Daphne had managed to persuade him to meet his mother. They were walking towards the shack, and she was half-hoping that those arseholes in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been ravished by a hungry Erumpent. As they were walking, Percy held each of his daughters' hands. They looked exhausted.

"Dad, I'm so tired. I wanna go home," Lucy said, yawning into his arm. "My legs are so itchy I'm gonna die."

"I miss my books," Molly agreed, and then buried her head into Percy's arm. "And I miss my bed."

"I'm okay, Mr Weasley," Clark said. "My legs are not itchy at all and I hate reading," he beamed at him.

"But if you go back home, who's going to protect me from any mean ole woodland creatures?" Percy asked. Molly and Lucy groaned at their responsibility, and then decided that maybe they were going to stay for a little while only.

"Fine," Molly decided, huffing as her cheeks reddened. "But you have to be brave all by yourself next time."

"Fair enough, Pixie face," Percy compromised, running his hand through her hair affectionately. His hand didn't get glued in, what a surprise. "Greengrass! Ae you going to take us to that rank cabin of yours in the middle of nowhere or not? I don't want to get gangrene before I'm thirty," he asked Daphne, all the tenderness dissipating from his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, arsehole, that's _my_ rank cabin in the middle of nowhere you're talking about!"

Even though she had no idea where they were, Daphne was still able to lead them to her little shack of a home.

Daphne grew up in that cabin next to an off-site wizarding B&B that smelled like a contained dragon pox outbreak.

She walked down the twisted paths every day, feeling the wet, coarse grass under her feet in her spring and the fallen leaves crunch under her heels in autumn. Merlin hated her because cold or hot, the stupid nature-y path was ruining her new Primpernelle pumps. _She_ paid full price for them so that ghost-haired bitch Malfoy didn't have them for half!

The cabin that she grew up in was old and smelly. It was just this one tiny room. In fact, a whole power-hungry prominent wizarding family lived in a teeny little room that was fit for mice. Eight-year-old Daphne used to lie on a mattress on the floor she stared with Astoria, staring at the bleak stars through the crack in the ceiling. They recited all the constellations by heart. Daphne was sure that Astoria was going to end up naming her ickle future baby after a super special star that commanded fear in the hearts of men. _Like Draco_ , Daphne rolled her ice-blue eyes.

They were of the wealthiest families in the world and they grew up in Weasley-esque poverty. Her arsehole cheap father wouldn't spend a sickle on them if they begged. They fought for cans of food. There was a time where Daphne once tore an earring out of Astoria's ear because she stole a bag of dried apples from her. In the same split second, Hayden Greengrass walked into the Ministry wearing robes made from gold and rings that glowed in the bloody dark.

What kind of a monster let his little girls starve in rags in a mucky old cabin whilst he feasted in his new velvet robes?

The Weasley's were poor and they lived in a rat-infested house that had more rooms than a holiday inn. But despite Arthur's faults, he would not let his children perish so he could gleam. Daphne appreciated that, at the very least.

Plus, did you know how hard it was to go from woody Bristol to the Ministry of Magic every night? All that daily dispensable portkey business totally cut into the time that she usually used to soak her feet in lavender bath salts!

As they approached the cabin, Percy couldn't feign the look of surprise. The cabin was even smaller than she remembered. In fact, it was as small as Astoria's cup size ( _ha_ ). It had accumulated so much dust that the first thing that Percy did when he walked in was sneeze. There was also a hole in the window and a fireplace that was last lit in 1986.

"Mother?" Daphne wandered to a tiny figure wrapped around in pastel-coloured blankets on a mattress on the floor.

Grace Greengrass sat up from her mattress. Her grotesque golden hair was in more knots than the garlic twists that Daphne had gotten addicted to from that lowly vendor in the middle of Diagon Alley. She had never had so much indigestion in her life. She dragged Percy over to his lunch break once, and he told her off as he ate GORD-produicng cinnamon rolls.

"Mrs Greengrass," Percy stiffened, as he stuck his hand out like he was talking to a Ministry official, and not an old tired woman in a nightgown that looked great on her in 1968. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Why?" Grace rummaged around for her glasses, which were always on the top of her head. "I didn't finish Hogwarts and I live in a rat-infested shack in the middle of the woods… I don't even think I have an acquaintance!"

"You're selling yourself short, madam," Percy coolly replied. "Both of your daughters work directly with the Minister of Magic himself and I can confirm that they are both exceptional in their workplace performance."

"The Minister? That redheaded imbecile that shoves all his work to that pathetic assistant of his?" Grace spat at his feet. "I preferred that Death Eater. At least he didn't need a picture book to know what's going on in his department."

"Mum, _I_ work for that pathetic assistant!" Daphne reminded her and then nudged Percy, grinning at him.

She stood up for him and he was glaring at her like she'd just morally insulted him! Pardon her, but wasn't it pathetic that his whole day would literally fall apart if that three-month-old quill he always used just suddenly snapped?

"Ma'am, that imbecile is my father," Percy deeply flushed, rubbing his neck. "And _I'm_ that pathetic assistant."

"Really?" Grace squinted at him. Come on! As if his mum really needed 6/6 vision to be able to tell that he looked like his head was on fire. But with her glasses on, she had an earth-shattering epiphany. "Oh! The pictures really do you justice. I didn't know that they hadn't discontinued that electroconvulsive therapy!"

"The Minister is so stupid," Molly agreed, nodding. "He doesn't know my father's job ends at five!"

Daphne looked at Percy pointedly, because even his five-year-old daughter knew that he should be clocking off at five.

Grace looked over at Molly and Lucy, as if just noticing them for the first time. Grace's blonde hair was greasy as ever. Her face, even at the age of forty-six, was spotty and oily. She'd heard from other pure-blood families that her mum had not been the same since she married their father. She pulled her hand out and Molly willingly took it, walking over to her. "You're about the same size as Daphne was," Grace said thoughtfully. When Lucy came closer to her, she measured her up too. "And you're just a little bigger than Astoria was."

" _I'm_ the same size as my sister!" Clark thought to mention.

Grace stood up from the mattress, and Percy gawked at her second-hand nightgown. A flash from the past maybe?

She opened a cupboard and then Daphne's heart hammered in her chest when she produced those rags from her childhood. Percy looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and Daphne stayed silent. A wand command later, they were dressed in old baby-pink dresses that looked like they belonged on a discounted doll. Percy had taken their old dress robes, and shoved them into his rucksack, which was filled with empty packets of sweets and old comic books.

Percy met Daphne's eyes briefly again, as he crouched down to Molly and Lucy to smooth down their dresses.

"I really did grow up with that and we really did live here," Daphne Greengrass admitted. Grace had just found a pair of black robes and had slipped it on a muddy Clark. "Just because our father had enough Galleons to buy mansions doesn't mean that he liked to spend it on us."

"I'm sorry," Percy stared at the stacks of updated issues of The Daily Prophet on the table in the corner. It was overflowing with newspaper articles and trashy magazines. "This… this is no place for you to live, Mrs Greengrass."

Grace eyed him suspiciously. "I'm not your damsel in distress, you sodding git," she looked at her feet. "I'm—"

Before she could explain that her mother was a stubborn old goat, Daphne froze when she heard the sound of the Erumpent _ROARING_. In seconds, it tore through the cabin, wailing its strangled cry.

 _"PERCY!"_ Daphne shrieked, as if he was going to do something about a one-hundred-and-thirty-stone beast.

Daphne's heart dropped into her stomach, and she started to hyperventilate, watching the beast stare at her with crazed, big black eyes. Its hooves were caught into the porch, and its beautiful ivory horn pointing straight at Grace Greengrass, who looked like she was about to have a heart attack. The deadly fluid from its horn was bubbling away.

Percy was stood there, putting his analysing-a-report face on. Daphne wanted to smack it out of him.

 _"AREN'T YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING?"_ Daphne didn't know if she could apparate without splinching.

"Why is it attacking?" Percy asked her. "I didn't consider this before, but they don't attack unless provoked and…"

"Oh, _I_ _DON'T KNOW!_ Why don't you invite him over for tea and ask, Percival?" Daphne replied back to him, only for him to shake his head. She wanted to violently hurt him, because that thing was pointing its gigantic exploding horn towards her poor, defenceless mother. "What-what about _MY MOTHER'S LIFE?"_ she shrieked at him.

Percy cocked his head to one side. "Why is it so small?" he asked her. "It's almost like—"

"Small?" Daphne echoed incredulously. That thing was so big that it was stuck in her shack. Alright, the one that was about to attack them before was about ten times bigger, but did you really compare one dragon's weight to another?

"It has no control of its own bodily functions," Percy referred to the exploding fluid starting to erupt from its horn.

 _"NEITHER DO I!"_ Daphne was this close to losing control of her bladder. "What's… what's your point?"

"All that exploding fluid everywhere!" Grace noticed, rubbing her eyes. "Oh… I'll go get my coat!"

The beast yelled, and its sound was so loud that ceiling started to come apart. Light poured into the shack.

Molly, Lucy and Clark stared agape at the beast. They were already stood beside their 'pathetic assistant' father, who looked like he was trying to think of an answer to a question on a Potions exam. Percy placed his hands on their shoulders, and then crouched down, probably telling them not to get maimed or try to take pictures with a rabid beast.

"Are you going to hurt her?" Lucy asked Percy, looking horrified. As if ten-stone Percy could do anything about a beast that had a hide that repelled all sorts of magic. Oh yes, just look at him now. Terrifying thing he was!

Daphne thought that she was going to faint when Percy approached it, his wand tentatively out.

"A…" Percy paused, staring at it for some time. He didn't exactly have the cool of a dragon tamer facing peril.

He smoothed his wand out, as if it wasn't already smooth. He closed his eyes and probably prayed to Merlin.

"A…" Percy called out. _"Anapneo."_ What? The little mean ole Erumpent was choking on his last victim perhaps?

"Anapneo?" Daphne wanted to throttle him. "Oh yes, he's choked up with tears! Seeing how you deal with this!"

Here he was, the Erumpent Whisperer. He could tell when they were choking on something. Oh, he was their saviour!

"Yes," Percy said softly, looking at her. "You don't know? You've never…?" he placed a hand on his chest.

She couldn't believe that she professed her undying love for that twat in the middle of the forest.

And excuse her, but she was voted The Sexiest Female Secretary in _Witch Weekly_ magazine! Meanwhile, Percy Weasley was voted Most Likely to Have an Aneurysm by Age Twenty-Five. She was so out of his league that they weren't on the same field. He was the Chudley Canons and she had already won the Quidditch Cup three times.

But after a violent shriek, she watched the Erumpent back away from her cabin, leaving a gaping hole in the front and hoof-imprints on the mattresses on the floor. Daphne slowly stepped out of the annihilated shack, following Percy out in the open. The Erumpent was sat on its arse, staring at him with big eyes. The fluid was still seeping from its horn.

Grace walked out. This was the only time she'd walked out in the last five years. " _I'm_ not paying for the renovations."

"You know when an Erumpent is choking?" Daphne asked him, crossing her arms. "It-it could've killed my mother!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Two wars didn't kill me," she reminded Daphne. "You think an oversized unicorn scares me?"

Daphne felt her chest ache. She felt faint and sick. Her mother was going to give her a heart attack!

"You don't know? You really don't know?" Percy paused for a second, pointed his wand at her. _"Anapneo."_

Daphne was stunned when she felt her chest feel a lot clearer. It was as if she could take a full deep breath without worrying that she was going to collapse. Her shoulders slumped, as she stared at his freckled face. The considerate arsehole. "It was scared. It's just a kid," she realised what Percy had been looking at all along. "What happened?"

"They put the parents and children in separate crates," Percy replied. "Do you ever read anything I send you, Miss Greengrass?"

Grace stared down at her nightgown. "Oh, who cares?" she asked. "I'm going to go pack for a holiday!"

"She's so pretty I'm gonna die," Lucy said, admiring her from afar. "And so big. I wish she'd fit into my room."

Daphne just stood beside Percy, holding onto their shoulders and watching. For a moment, Daphne wondered what other creatures were suffering from the war. She thought of scared Erumpents in cages because the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures kept the big Erumpents separated from the little ones. They felt fear the same way too. She looked down at Lucy and Molly, oblivious to exploding fluids and Erumpent hunting.

"I'm pretty too," Daphne said. Percy snorted. Arsehole. "Will you let me stay in your room?" Lucy reluctantly agreed.

She stared back at the shack that she grew up with, destroyed. She wanted to burn it down more than anything.

Daphne slowly warmed her way to Molly. "That's my favourite dress," she said. Molly's neck was warm and soft.

"Thank you," Molly replied. Daphne hated that rag more than anything, and she wondered why her mother kept it all these years. She also wondered why her mother refused to leave a gross disgusting shack that was filled only with bad memories. She wondered why it was so hard for her to let go of something that made her so bloody miserable. "I'm sorry about your house," she said.

"Me too," replied Daphne, eyes on Percy. Why couldn't _he_ leave what was making him so miserable too?


	25. We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry Part 4

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Five: We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry – Part 4

* * *

Percy's flat wasn't anything like Daphne imagined. There were splashes of paint all over the wall. Apparently, there was a couch that was missing, and there were little plates with rotten half-eaten toasties that were probably there from two days ago.

They'd just arrived in London. They had the time of their lives, moaning about having to turn into work tomorrow.

Daphne didn't want to turn in because she had a hair appointment at ten and wanted to give her hair a full Caribbean treatment. Percy did not want to turn in because he was rapidly losing patience with the staff at Ministry Munchies.

 _I also don't understand why my father has to leave at five every day,_ Percy told her. He also just heard about Ron's spattergroit ruse when he was in the coffee room the other day. _Mum does all the work around the bloody house! What excuse does he have? Does he want to bond with his youngest ickle babies, Ron and Ginny? The ones that have been involved in a war thanks to his wonderful parenting! Did I tell you that my father helped him pretend to have spattergroit? The nerve of him!_

Then he closed his eyes. _Percy?_ Daphne asked, watching him grow more distressed. _What are you thinking about?_

 _I can't believe Audrey's family wanted to throw Molly out of the window_ , he whispered. Daphne's heart ached. _How dare they?_

At the campsite that evening, they'd managed to catch all the Erumpents after calming them down with spells and wizarding first aid kits. Then that fuzzy, overstretched arsehole Jacob slapped Percy's shoulder (and probably dislocated it with his bulging bicep). When Percy suggested humane creature control, Jacob called him a Willow Whomping vegetarian. Mind you, Daphne ate enough red meat to turn her arteries into butter and she agreed with him. Before they left, Daphne took Percy aside and asked if she and Grace could stay with him at his flat.

After all, Daphne couldn't take her mum to her flat back to Croydon least she discovered that Daphne roamed in with muggle drunks that sang the same Merlin-forsaken verse of _God Save the Queen_ at four in the morning every day.

"I apologise for this… unacceptable state of affairs," was the first thing Percy told her when they walked into his flat, red-faced. Oh, because being a single father wasn't bad enough, he had to keep his flat _Witch Weekly_ ready too!

She watched him siphon the paint all over the walls with a _Tergeo_ , and then disappear into the kitchen.

"My feet hurt so much I'm gonna die," Lucy yawned drowsily, letting Molly snore on her shoulder. "I want my bed."

"It's not usually like this, Miss and Mrs Greengrass," Percy said, reappearing from the kitchen with a bucket of water.

"Uh huh," Lucy agreed, yawning again. "It's so clean now!" Percy looked like his aneurysm was about to implode.

A charmed mop followed him, cleaning the walls as he took Lucy and Molly to their bedroom. She heard the sound of cupboards opening. Daphne imagined that he was helping them change into their pyjamas. Then, in the same tone he used when he wanted to berate Daphne for not doing any work, he said, "Excuse me, _WHERE_ is my goodnight kiss?!"

She could hear giggling from the room, sloppy kisses and an energetic round of _goodnight!_ sounding from their room.

Percy ran to the living room and took the mop and bucket back to the kitchen. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Percy, you, out of the goodness of your heart, are letting us stay in your flat! We really appreciate it," Daphne watched heart-shaped plates whizz past her. "Do you really think we're in any position to criticise your flat?"

Percy had Daphne and Astoria's old dresses bundled up in his arms. "Well…" he smiled sheepishly.

"Well, _I'm_ in a position to criticise you! I'm not in love with you," Grace said. "I hope this is not where I'm sleeping!"

Really, with the way her mum talked, it wasn't like she was living on a mouldy mattress for eighteen years! And it was just like her mother to profess her feelings towards another man in his apartment. Oh, Daphne could just kill her.

"Of course, madam!" Percy almost dropped the old dresses in his hand. "You'll be staying in my room."

He was cleaning the living room, and fixing photos that didn't look like they were straight. His flat was now spotless.

" _Your room?_ But where are you going to sleep?" Daphne asked, feeling like she was already overstaying her welcome. He didn't answer her as he walked into the room, throwing the bundle in a white-coloured hamper by the door.

He didn't even have a couch! "Where are you going to sleep, Percy?" Daphne repeatedly asked. She felt guilty.

"In my flat," he replied vaguely. "Where else am I going to sleep? _I'm_ not sharing a bed with your mother."

Percy's room was sterile and stale. The paintjob was uninspiring and boring. His beige-and-black clothes for the next day had already been pressed days ago and was placed in magical, floating clothing hangers. He had a mug on his table that had been wiped down to the point where the Auror department would struggle to get a fingerprint out of. There was a stack of papers by his desk, all filled in with cursive writing. His owl, Hermes, was in his cage, with a bag of owl treats on the inside that was still mostly full and a charmed water dispenser that was filled with clean water.

"Ooh, this is nice. Just like a hotel," Grace said, sitting on the edge of his bed and yawned. "Do you have any water?"

"Mum!" Daphne glared at her. "This isn't a room at the Broomstick Inn… hell, even they wouldn't serve you!"

Daphne's heart hammered in her chest when she noticed a picture of Percy cradling one of his newborn babies. She was wrapped in a pink blanket. Daphne didn't recognise that weird thing on his face. Was that, Merlin-forbid, _a smile?_

She'd been staring at it for so long that she didn't notice Percy coming back with two glasses of water.

"There's a million boxes of Pixie Puff ice-lollies in the fridge if you get hungry," Percy was shifting on the balls of his feet, awkwardly. There was something about seeing where your boss lived that changed everything. Daphne thought it was just so sad to see how much he had to do around the flat too. "And a can of vegetable soup in the cupboard."

"Thank you," she said softly. She imagined Percy eating a can of cold vegetable soup for a midnight snack.

Percy took his hanger and walked out, as if he was intruding in their space instead of the other way around.

"Goodnight, Percy," Daphne said softly after he'd already left. As she laid beside her already-snoring mum—oh, yes, how she would _love_ a glass of bloody water, Daphne imagined Percy lying here in bed by himself for the last five years.

She barely slept that night. She was thinking all night—about her mum and about what to do about her now. She recalled a conversation with Percy and him asking her where she wanted to be in the next five years. She wanted to be _stable_. She suddenly felt very young. She felt a need to sort out her life whenever she looked at Percy. Merlin, he could turn chaos into order in seconds. And at three in the morning, she silently turned to face the window.

The sky was an indecisive colour. It looked like Astoria trying to decide what to wear for her date with Draco.

Given up, she left Percy's bedroom and wandered into the living room. The guilt she felt just doubled over when she realised that Percy was lying on a blanket, clinging onto a pillow. He was sleeping _on the floor_ in his own bloody flat! Then Daphne realised that he had not bothered coming back for his pyjamas because he was still in the same clothes as before. He had another blanket on top of him but was still shivering. Daphne crouched down and fixed his blanket.

 _"YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE MY DAD UP!"_ Lucy shrieked. Percy sat up, looking like he just had a heart attack.

Daphne looked up to see Lucy and Molly standing there in white pyjamas. Lucy's cheeks looked extra chubby.

Lucy waved her fist in the air. _"YOU WOKE HIM UP!"_ she was about to wake the whole building up.

"What are you doing up, Luce?" Daphne called out softly, and Lucy looked like she was thinking about that nickname for a second. She looked like she accepted it because she looked down at her feet. "Do you want an ice-lolly?"

"Absolutely not," Percy replied. "Not at this hour," he yawned into his sleeve.

"Dad?" Lucy's voice was soft. Percy already buried his head into his pillow, ready to go back to sleep.

Percy pulled the blanket on top of his body, not even bothering up. "Yes?"

"Um…" Lucy was swaying on her feet, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes were soft. "Molly's gonna tell you!"

Molly flinched, and then nodded her head. Percy already had his eyes closed. "Yes?" Percy repeated, yawning.

"We…" Molly inched closer. "We heard about how mum died."

Percy suddenly sat up again, his eyes widening. All signs of sleep disappeared from his thin, freckled face.

Daphne's heart was hammering into her chest because she knew what happened between Percy and Audrey too. She felt ill when she saw Percy pale so much that he looked like an anaemic ghost. His eyes were glossy, like he was this close to crying. He bit down at his lower lip, and he had his arms around himself, not looking up at her.

"Is… is it true?" Lucy asked, bringing her hands together and swaying from side to side. She looked nervous, as if she was asking him about that ice-lolly at three am instead of her mother's unfortunate demise.

"Did… did we kill her?" Molly asked, and Percy managed to go from white to grey to blue in about three seconds.

"Percy, you're drawing blood," Daphne tried to tell him, but he didn't look like he cared. "Percy."

Percy opened his mouth to talk. "No, no," he said, his voice so pained that it made Daphne wish she could say something. What would you say to your five-year-old girls if they knew their mum died giving birth to them? "No, Molly, Lucy, _nonono_. She was so ill. She lost so much blood and—… you were the only things in the world that…"

"We were the only things in the world that…?" Lucy reiterated with big, innocent eyes.

"The only things that made me happy," Percy finished his sentence, laughing vacantly as he cried. It sounded so innocent, up until Daphne realised that with his self-loathing, he might've just done himself in without them.

"It's okay," Daphne tried to say soothingly, more to Percy than to his daughters. "It's okay."

Percy shook his head, his teeth digging into his lip. He wanted to say something, but the words died on his tongue.

 _"DAD… WHY ARE YOU CRYING?"_ Lucy shrieked, turning white. "Please stop crying! We're sorry! We're okay!"

"I'm sorry we asked," Molly added on, placing a dimpled hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

Daphne was close enough that even in the dark, she could see tears silently running down Molly's face. Her heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest when she heard Lucy sobbing. She didn't realise that she'd been crying herself.

"I'm…" Percy scooped them into his arms and held them. "I'm crying because it makes me sad that you feel like this."

"Hey," Daphne felt him tremble at her touch. A prime candidate for a nine-to-five tomorrow. "It's okay."

"It's okay, Dad. Don't cry," Molly placed a hand on his face. "Listen to Miss Greengrass!" she called out happily.

Daphne let him rest on her shoulder, puffy-faced and red-eyed. Her heart was still racing. She laid him down onto his bed and Lucy and Molly watched her cover him up with blankets. He was so tired he fell right back asleep. His face was sticky from the tears, and Daphne wished that she could share some of that heavy burden on his shoulders.

She ran her hand through his hair and watched his chest rise. And then Daphne took Molly and Lucy to bed.

"Is Dad going to be sad tomorrow?" Lucy asked, when Daphne tucked her in. "I didn't mean to make him sad."

"No, Luce," Daphne watched her bury her face in her stuffed dragon. "I'll give him nice dreams and he won't be sad."

"Thank you for making him happy," Molly was sharing a bed with Lucy, even though the bed was pretty small.

The next morning, she couldn't dare wake him up for his stupid job when he was still sleeping. He looked even worse than he did when he started this 'holiday'. The boring clothes on the floating hanger mocked her. The thought of seeing his father's face that morning infuriated her because he didn't know what happened that night. And that self-hating, self-righteous narcissist, Percy, was never going to tell anyone else what happened even if it ate him up inside.

Grace was up by that time. She had already brewed a pot of tea and was spooning a yoghurt from the fridge.

A knock sounded from the door and Daphne opened it. A woman, old and wrinkled like an antique wedding dress, walked into the house. She wore the worst-looking floral robes that Daphne had ever seen and smelled like unsweetened tea and cheap perfume that made her eyes water. Her silvery hair was tied back.

"I know who you are! I've seen pictures," Mrs Rosenstein replied. "I didn't know Percival owned those magazines!"

Daphne glared at Mrs Rosenstein. "Percy is sleeping," she tried to whisper. He was still asleep. Merlin, he was tired.

"He's supposed to be turning into work?" Grace scoffed, eying the exhausted Percy. "He looks like he's in a coma."

"He had a rough night," Daphne walked over to the fridge and getting milk for her coffee. She was going to turn into the Ministry. "His daughters asked him about his mother's death at three am… and she died during childbirth."

Grace whistled. Mrs Rosenstein turned pastier. "Godric," Mrs Rosenstein sighed. "Why is he lying on the floor?"

"We slept in his bed," Daphne explained. He should be looking for a chiropractor instead of going to a weekly acupuncture appointment.

Daphne looked over at him, as if she didn't know exactly how he looked like. His arms were sprawled all over the floor, and his blanket had somehow been propelled to the other side of the room. Percy looked like he was freezing, but at the same time, there didn't look like there was a force in the world that could wake him up if it tried.

"Merlin," Mrs Rosenstein took in his form. She levitated him from the floor and to his bed. He barely even stirred. "Isn't he supposed to be on holiday? Don't tell me that that pasty-arsed assistant of his can't function without him."

Daphne went as red as beetroot. Pardon her. Who was she to talk? Her skin was the consistency of curdled milk!

Mrs Rosenstein closed the door to his room. Percy's tired snores still bellowed out into the living room. "Who are you again? I'm sure I've seen you around Knockturn Alley before. No shame in your profession." Daphne stared at this woman agape. Like Percy would bring a prostitute in his flat! He once told a stripper to strip down his bed for him!

She felt insulted for Percy too. He had two five-year-old girls. How would he explain what a prostitute was to them?

" _I'm_ his pasty-arsed assistant," Daphne retorted. "Go back to your coffin, you old bat. You're not needed today."

"Well!" Mrs Rosenstein looked like that was the worst insult she'd heard in her life. Daphne thought that was unlikely that a woman lived past a hundred without being insulted. "Didn't anyone teach you how to respect your elders?"

Daphne scoffed. "I think the cut off for that is when you start putting on diapers again!"

As Mrs Rosenstein sulked at that comment, Daphne grabbed Percy's clothes and walked into his bathroom to change. She changed into his neatly pressed shirt, suffocating in the scent of his awful cologne. All her clothes had burned down with the cabin. She would be absolutely devastated if she did not hate everything in her closet and wanted an excuse for a wardrobe haul anyway. Percy's beige trousers were long on her, and tight around her thighs. She could barely button his black shirt. That bastard should really shop for clothes for his age group. As thin as he was, he still looked uncomfortable because his old fifth-year-clothes were too small on his twenty-three-year-old body!

She put on his pressed bright purple Ministry robes much to Mrs Rosenstein's chagrin and left to go to work.

Upon arriving to the Ministry of Magic, she reeled back walking into the Atrium. Besides the shack that sold overpriced coffee, there was a big, gold banner congratulating the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for their perilous expedition! They caught the dangerous Erumpents that had been mysteriously released!

 _Mysteriously?_ Daphne thought. _This was about as mysterious as a sixth year trying to get into my skirt!_

Reporters from the Daily Prophet were fussing around Danny, Jacob and Rob. They stood there in their neat Ministry robes, with their black trousers and shirts showing off their chiselled, useless bodies. Jacob's teeth glinted in the light, as they went by their accurate retelling of how they had managed to catch them without any help from anyone other department. Oh yes, what brave souls. They might as well throw Harry Potter out of Auror training!

Daphne tried to ignore them as she passed them by. One of them looked at her clothes with a snort.

"Mr Whitby, do you have any comments about the homeless shelter in progress?" a reporter asked. "Do you support the Malfoy's funding? Many departments have agreed to overrule the Minister of Magic for the sake of others—"

"As you know, we don't support those Malfoy scum at all. In fact, we have always made it apparent that we support the Minister wholeheartedly," Danny Whitby said. When she heard this, she stopped dead in her tracks to hear the rest of this horrible rubbish. "We bought in the beasts and plan to extract their horns, tails and as much exploding fluid as possible to help pay for the new homeless shelter project. As you know, these are Class B materials. We do not believe, like some other departments, that we should consider the Malfoy's to fund after the part they played in the war."

"It's unfortunate that the Minister's own son doesn't agree with his own father," Rob sighed deeply.

They were dragging Percy's name through the mud after he did their bloody job for them!

Daphne felt like she'd been petrified by a basilisk. _"Excuse me?"_ she turned around, her eyes bulging.

"Would you like to comment?" Rita bloody Skeeter asked. Daphne huffed. _She'd love to fucking comment—_

"Oh, Rita, I'd like you to meet Daphne Greengrass," Jacob gestured to her. Those blasted Quick-Quotes Quill were writing faster than ever, and Daphne knew that whatever he said was going to be a load of trash. "It's shame she didn't come with us on the trip this week, even though she was aware of how paramount the situation was… oh well."

 _"Oh well?"_ Daphne reiterated furiously. "Now, listen here, you pig-faced vain little arsehole—"

"Well, can you really blame her?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. "Miss Greengrass over there isn't known for her dedication to anything other than herself. Haven't seen her to pick up a quill just in case she breaks a nail!"

Daphne gawked at them. The camera crew zoomed in and took a photo of her perfectly made nails. Excuse her!

As they laughed at her face, Rob smirked at her. "Oh, I don't know. She's _very_ dedicated to her boss."

"Oh yes! Nice trousers, Miss Greengrass!" Danny exclaimed. She realised that she'd made a crucial error. "Is he going to turn up in your skirt, Daffy? He only really has three articles of clothing and none of them even fit his fat arse."

Daphne bit down her tongue so she didn't say anything she'd regret and stomped off to the lift. The nerve of them! The nerve of the bloody Minister for congratulating them on something his son did when he was _ON HOLIDAY!_

Feeling furious, she skipped her morning nail filing regimen and walked straight into Percy's office.

If he just saw the state of his office now, he'd probably have a cardiac arrest. There were papers decorating his office from desk to floor to wall. There were clipboards that were crammed with wrinkled flying memos and quills that had been broken with splotches of multi-coloured ink on his desk. Percy's kettle imploded last night due to an unforeseen accident with a cup of tea and an inappropriate spell at two-am as she tried to get through his workload without collapsing. How did he do this on a daily basis? Daphne wondered. She hadn't even finished one day's worth yet and it had been a week! The bloody Minister should be doing his own bloody papers.

What did he do all day? Schedule tea breaks with the Head of the Auror Department and have a laugh until five pm?

As she settled behind Percy's desk, Daphne waited about two minutes before taking a break. She went down to Ministry Munchies to get herself a cup of coffee. This was ridiculous. She now had a new tremor for Merlin's sake!

Back at Percy's office, she tried to collect Percy's papers into a neat pile. There was just too much work. She couldn't tell which paper was for with date anymore. She had seen so much bright red _URGENT_ labels on these documents that her head pounded. And she couldn't believe that Percy bothered learning a whole language just so he could read reports written in Elvish.

She absolutely lost it when Arthur Weasley walked into her—well, Percy's—office, looking shocked.

"Where is Percy?" Arthur asked. "And what happened here? It looks like those Erumpents stomped into the office."

"You mean the poor dead creatures you had maimed so you could get a little exploding fluid?" Daphne scoffed. She had lost all respect for the Minister of Magic and she didn't want to deal with him today. If she thought that he was standing there taking his rubbish then he was sadly mistaken. She was not Percy. She was not going to take being degraded and hate herself for what happened later on. She was not going to let him talk to her like _that_. "I doubt that, Mr Minister. But thanks for dropping by here when you are _SO_ incredibly busy…"

Arthur was offended by her rudeness. Good. "Miss Greengrass, I don't appreciate that tone."

" _I_ don't appreciate the amount of work you've been actually asking me to do on a daily basis. Merlin himself would've struggled with-with _THIS!"_ Daphne shook her head at him. She was disappointed in Arthur. She thought that he was better than that. She looked around at her desk, which was covered in pink papers. She stared at him with red eyes. "And I don't appreciate that you'd rather have the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures kill those poor scared creatures—which are _endangered_ —just so you could avoid getting funding from the Malfoy's."

Arthur did not reply to her questions. "Where's Percy?" he asked again. "He was supposed to turn in today."

"I let him sleep in. I tossed his alarm clock out of the window because if he turned in today, I was going to lose it!" Daphne said coldly. She honestly wished he'd just resign. There was literally no other person on Earth that would take on the amount of work that he did. "He took me and my mum in after our house got destroyed by an Erumpent."

"I'm… I'm sorry," Arthur's apology was sincere. "I just heard from Astoria that Jacob, Danny and Rob had been harassing you. I didn't realise that on top of that, they'd let an Erumpent destroy your home! That's unacceptable!"

"I don't care about that," Daphne said honestly, but she did care a little. She didn't know what she was supposed to do with her mum. "Did you know that if Percy wasn't with those brave representatives from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures then they would still be stuck there, playing Exploding Snap? _YOUR_ _SON_ did their job for them! I can't let them take credit for that! Especially when you expect him to be here at nine on the dot to lick your bloody shoes? Do you know that the Erumpents that 'mysteriously disappeared' only escaped because the department decided to separate the parents from their young and they went rogue during transport?"

Arthur went white. "Percy did that?" he asked incredulously. What a charmer. A father that didn't believe that his son was capable of helping anyone but himself. "But-but he's on holiday."

"I asked for his help," Daphne's voice shook. She was this close to storming out of there and quitting her job. But she couldn't do that as long as Percy was working here and letting himself look like a bloody fool. "I'd rather let the Malfoy's have a stunning reputation than having have killed those poor, mistreated creatures for a few sickles!"

"What are you talking about?" a voice made Daphne shudder. She and Arthur turned to the doorway.

Percy was stood at the door. He was wearing his old tattered Ministry robes. Underneath, he had on the most unprofessional pair of black sweatpants that Daphne had ever seen. There were drawings of broomsticks all over it, and he had a bright pink Quiberon Quafflepunchers Quidditch jersey on top. His eyes were tired and red-rimmed.

"Thank you for throwing all my clothes in the rubbish bin," Percy told Daphne, who only smirked.

"Go home, Percy," Daphne said. She couldn't believe that he came here. He was holding a steaming mug of coffee that he was already yawning into. He was in no shape or form to be working today. "Go back to bed."

"No," replied Percy. He looked like he was about to fall over any second. He looked so tired.

Arthur was standing there, taking in Percy's appearance. "Can we talk?" Arthur asked. "In my office?"

Percy opened his mouth, but no words came out of it. He slowly nodded his head. "Of course, Mr Minister," and then turned to look at the ground. There was Percy stood there, stripped of any pride, and looking like he only had two minutes to try and find out what to wear to the gay parade after a night of drinking himself to death.

She thought of Lucy and Molly staring at her with big eyes and little hands. They were five and they still hadn't shown any signs of magic? Daphne wondered for a second if Percy's daughters were squibs.

"Very well," Arthur was uncomfortable around Percy. "I just wanted to talk to you about your mother."

Percy looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What about?" he asked, and Arthur gave him a sordid look before gesturing towards the door. Percy followed him straight into his office.


	26. We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry Part 5

_i'm only posting these chapters really quickly, but just to reply back to **SwampRatUK** , i'm not going to have Clarence come into this one i assure you! but it'll still get dark. i just haven't decide how dark i want it to be yet / what plot i want to go along with since i had 4-5 different ideas. there are ones that go with the story better than others and all of them would influence the story differently deciding on how to go along with them. but thank you for letting me know about the UK muggle health system. i've never been to the UK and only know vaguely about the NHS / going private because it's a very different system here to where i live. i'm not sure if i mention anything about the muggle health system in this chapter but i'll be sure to be more wary of it in the future.  
_

 _i think at some point i'll have a nice skip to them being older (probably after 2-3 subplotlines) and Arthur still being the Minister of Magic because i have some plots i want to explore with an older Molly/Lucy._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Six: We've Got Bigger Plimpies to Fry – Part 5

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Arthur and Percy were sitting in Arthur's office. It was so quiet that if you listened closely, you could hear the ghosts in Hogwarts chattering. Arthur handed two already-stamped papers over to a stiff-limbed Percy.

The window was cracked open. Waves of light came streaming into his dim-lit office that smelled like old leather.

"I'm sure you've already heard from passing by the Atrium that I'd promised the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures that I'd sign off on them butchering those Erumpents, but… I just couldn't," Arthur said softly. He'd already signed papers rejecting their offer of massacring the animals for volatile Potion ingredients. At eight in the morning, he approved the Malfoy's funding officially, even though he felt bile rise up in his throat. But the thought of slaughtering those poor animals made his skin crawl even more. "I didn't know you were responsible for capturing them in the first place. I'm…I'm very impressed, Percy. I'm sure that you know that… that's a very difficult thing to do. There are people that are trained in that sort of thing that wouldn't have been able to."

"Yes, my greatest accomplishment in life," Percy sounded more bitter than Snape had been in the Order meetings.

Arthur didn't even know how to compliment Percy anymore. Everything he said rubbed him the wrong way.

He looked down at his neat mahogany desk. On the far end, there was a marble tray that Astoria bought with him every morning. There were expensive floral teacups and teapots filled with cream tea. There were also hot scones, jam and clotted cream on that tray. Today, she'd bought chocolate-chip scones. Astoria had them in every morning and kept snacking on them until the late in the evening. Most times, she unknowingly cleared the whole tray by herself.

Arthur didn't mind at all. Astoria was a bony thing. Her shoulders could barely carry that hulking coat she wore.

"Do you want a scone?" Arthur asked then paled. He felt like he'd made a crucial mistake on an exam because he remembered that Percy hated scones. He thought they were stodgy and disgusting. "Never mind… what about tea?"

Arthur was the Minister of bloody Magic now. He'd seen a whole war unfold right before his very eyes. But he couldn't talk to his own son without falling apart!

His eldest son had had his face annihilated beyond recognition by a werewolf. Charlie had popped back in and seen Bill with his face half-torn off and couldn't do a thing about it! His two poor twins suffered: George losing an ear and Fred being comatose for three days when he'd been crushed by debris. Ginny unravelling in her first year of Hogwarts. Ron had almost died too many times to count and Molly was too nervous to open any owls addressed to Ron just in case they imploded on opening! Speaking of his wife, Molly went from a nervous wreck to a depressed nervous wreck. She barely left the house unless she had to do the shopping. He couldn't get her to go out with him for toffee.

To add onto that, his estranged son had neglected to tell him that he had married a muggle, who lost her life giving birth to two beautiful girls. Arthur had been angry when he'd learned about this. He and Molly had been robbed of the joy that one would feel when they'd just learned they were about to be grandparents because of the most stupid fight in the world.

 _The Daily Prophet_ would have a field day if they knew how mucked up his home life had become!

His new status as the Minister of Magic was about as interesting to the family as stale scones, but it was breaking his and Percy's relationship even more. And Arthur was so angry at Percy. Of course, he was. He thought that the rift between them was ridiculous, but to Percy, it was enough to send back Christmas jumpers and leave him for dead in a hospital! After the attack, Arthur used to come in and out of consciousness, hallucinating seeing Percy towering over him, chiding him like a small child. _If you didn't listen to Dumbledore, you-you wouldn't be in this mess!_ Arthur used to imagine him stood there with his Prefect badge gleaming in the dark, in his Gryffindor robes. _What do you have to say for yourself?_

He was a man that was respected by all, even before the Minister of Magic title. But Percy couldn't respect him even if he was Merlin himself. Percy had even gotten married and had two girls without bothering to send a measly little owl about it. Then after that, Percy seemed shocked by Arthur's lack of reception. Was Arthur supposed to do? Congratulate him?

Arthur was lost in his thoughts as he poured tea. Unnerved by silence, Arthur asked, "Percy?" and then looked up.

That was when Arthur realised that Percy hadn't answered him because he had fallen asleep on his chair.

Arthur was surprised because all he could think of was seven-year-old Percy fighting to stay awake on the Knight Bus. At the time, he had refused to sleep anywhere else other than his bed. He would rub his eyes furiously, sat on his mum's lap and groaning about how long it was taking to get home. It was laughable that right now, at the age of twenty-three, Percy had fallen asleep sat upright in an uncomfortable chair in the Minister's office. He wore the most tattered pair of sweatpants Arthur had ever seen. The purple Ministry of Magic robes he wore looked as attractive as Bill's face.

"Miss Greengrass!" Arthur yelled."Can you come in here...? Please? I-I have a matter I'd like you to attend to!" She appeared almost instantly, with an irritated expression on her face.

"What do you want, Mr Weasley?" Daphne called back acerbically, crossing her arms over her chest. "Isn't having my sister at your disposal enough for you? Do you have to have me too?"

Arthur opened his mouth and was about to tell her off for that until he remembered that Percy was now drooling all over his table. "Percy… he…um…fell asleep when I was talking to him," he explained to Daphne, who wandered off to him. "I didn't realise I was that boring," he laughed nervously.

"Percy? Sweetheart?" Daphne slowly shook him awake, but he didn't stir. Arthur placed a very tentative hand on Percy's shoulder, trying to shake him awake. She paused and shook her head. "I'll take him back to his flat. He's obviously in no condition to be at work in the first place. Pity _you_ didn't believe me the first time around. I hope you do next time, because we both know that Percy's about as likely to slow down as a Chaser competing in the Wizarding World Cup."

Arthur agreed. "Um... well... I'll-I'll help," he said. Daphne didn't acknowledge him, but she also didn't tell him to bugger off. _Sweetheart?_ Even his mum didn't call him that anymore.

When Daphne glanced at the documents at his table, her face softened slightly. He supposed not slaughtering the Erumpents must have been enough for her to relax in his presence. "Oh. You didn't…? I thought that you…" she looked embarrassed at the things that she'd just told him. He was the Minister of Magic after all.

Arthur didn't meet her eyes, as he flushed. "Of course not," he said. "I'm…—I couldn't. I know that you don't think much of me at all but I..."

"I-I apologise, Mr Weas-... Mr Minister," Daphne helped pick up Percy's clipboard and rucksack. "What… what did you want to tell him?" she flushed.

"Um… that-that… Molly's ill. She's been talking about some pains in her chest," Arthur explained. This was so bloody awkward. He helped pull Percy up, who didn't even stir as he slumped on his shoulder. He was so far gone into his sleep that Arthur didn't think that there was anything in the world that could wake him up. Not even a third wizarding war. "She's in St Mungo's right now. They'd admitted her last night. But I hadn't gone around to telling Percy before he fell asleep."

Arthur's heart ached. "I know there's a gigantic rift between us, but he deserves to know," he said. "She's his mother."

"Of course, of course…" Daphne looked genuinely upset. "I'm sorry, Mr Minister. Do they know what's wrong with her yet?"

Arthur shook his head. After a few moments of silence, they apparated away to Percy's flat.

"Well, I suppose I'll be heading back," Daphne said almost the second they were in his living room. How was it that Arthur had never been here before? He felt misplaced and unwanted. He found it odd. Arthur was the Minister of bloody Magic, but he didn't feel like it in Percy's flat. "I have work to do," and then she disapparated off.

"What about...?" Arthur asked her, but she was already gone. What if something horribly wrong happened? Just like every time he'd tried to talk to Percy about anything.

The flat was nothing like he'd imagined it to be. All this time he'd been imagining a spacious flat with beige walls and stuffy white loveseats and couches that looked like they'd been plucked straight out of a Witch Weekly catalogue.

Instead, Arthur was transported to 1974, when he'd just come home to find two-year-old Charlie drooling all over the carpet and four-year-old Bill eating biscuits. The walls were covered in crayoned drawings of dragons, breathing out orange-coloured fire that hadn't been filled in. There were no couches, and the carpet was covered in chocolate stains. Lying on the floor were Percy's daughters… err, Arthur's grandchildren. They were eating breakfast. Jam smeared all over their faces. They were reading very complicated looking scholarly journals with a dictionary.

"Hmm...? Where-where...?" a drowsy Percy stirred the second that he heard his daughters laughing. He vigorously tried to rub the sleep out his eye and moved away from Arthur, glaring at him as if he'd done something unlawful by bringing him back home. "What are _you_ doing here in my flat? Who gave you the right to come into my home?"

"I…" Arthur froze up. Percy was treating him like he was an escaped Death Eater. "I was just bringing you home."

"How considerate of you," Percy spat out sarcastically. The tone in his voice made Arthur shudder. "Well, I'm home now so I suppose that you, Mr Minister, should be heading back the Ministry before it collapses on itself without your wonderful insight and—"

 _"DAD!"_ one of the little ones shrieked. She ran over to him. _"MOLLY WANTS A PYGMY PUFF… TODAY!"_

Percy didn't even move his head to look down at the little girl that was tugging at his Ministry robes.

"Fred and George make those," Arthur mentioned. "In their shop in Diagon Alley? I—"

"I'm aware," Percy cut him off. Speaking of Erumpents, he looked like one that was guarding his territory. Merlin, how wrong was this? They were from the same family. Percy was _his son_. "What did you want?"

For a second, Arthur wondered how the most painstaking, callous and calculated human being in the world managed to have the warmth and compassion to raise children. Especially girls! But looking at them, they seemed so normal, so happy, so full of livelihood. He had a hard time imagining his stern-faced son, who scrunched up his nose when his eggs touched his beans, trying to feed mushy baby food and dealing with nappies and regurgitating babies.

The twins looked up to stare at Arthur, finally acknowledging him. As if they were looking at a monster coming to life.

Did Percy say anything to them about him? The thought made Arthur sick, to think that maybe Percy had turned his own children against the rest of his family. Percy slowly stroked one of the twins' short red hair, his face unyielding.

"I…" Arthur wasn't about to tell Percy that his mother was sick in front of his children. They were staring at him as if they were trying to decide if they should approach him or cower under the table. That didn't seem healthy. "I'd prefer if we talk alone," he tried to appear as non-threatening as possible, but they still stared at him.

Arthur tried to take in their faces: young, freckled and beautiful. He didn't really look at them well enough the last time. Well, last time he was reeling from the shock of knowing that the-one-son-you-never-got-on-managed to have children without telling you.

"Why?" Percy challenged and it was getting hard for Arthur to try and remain calm.

"Who is the new man?" one of them finally asked. "Why doesn't he just leave?" what a bloody joke.

Arthur felt robbed. He felt like this stupid fight shouldn't have prevented Percy from coming to their doorstep with two infants. He felt like he should've told them about Audrey's pregnancy at the very least. Molly would've shown him how to put on a nappy and make them a bottle without him having to read about it in a gigantic textbook. Arthur would've taken him to go shopping for the necessities that he already had ingrained in his mind: beautiful sturdy white cots, pretty baby pink onesies and Mr Blackthorn's Ever-Growing Baby Formula. He would have no problem holding _his first grandchild_ in his arms into the early hours of the morning just so Percy could catch a few hours of sleep. Where did it go all bloody wrong?

Yes, Fleur was pregnant. Yes, Bill was having a baby. But it wasn't like he could just replace what-should-have-been with what-was-going-to-be. Every my-son-turned-into-a-father experience was so unique. And every time Bill talked to him about it, Arthur just turned his head away because he couldn't bloody stop thinking about Percy. He felt like his heart had been torn since the day that he just walked into _his home_ and was greeted by Percy's daughters. How was he supposed to cope with how Percy looked at him? How was he supposed to cope with how much Percy _hated_ him?

"This is your grandfather," Percy finally said, breaking Arthur out of his trance. "He's the Minister of Magic."

"I'm Lucy, Mr Minister of Magic," she tensely nodded off to him. "Molly thinks that you're stupid."

Arthur couldn't help but look back at Percy with a mixture of anger and betrayal. How dare he tell his children those things?

"Yes, well, _I_ read in _The Daily Prophet_ that he's a foolhardy scoundrel that couldn't tell his nose from his toes without a map. Dad, he tried to recycle tubes in the hospital!" Molly argued. "I'm sure that if he was in the hospital, he wouldn't like to know that his tube was down some other man's nose before! As if it's not bad enough that people are dying after what happened with Voldemort. They have to die with second-hand junk!"

"Well, when I was in the hospital, all I cared about was that your father wasn't there to see me," Arthur said, before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. Percy looked absolutely fuming when he did. "But I suppose that poor little Molly doesn't know anything about that, does she, Percy? She only sees what you want her to see."

"How dare you come into my house and accuse me!" Percy yelled. "I'm sorry if you don't like what she's had to say, but believe it or not, _I_ don't impose my thoughts on my children. This is what _she_ thinks of you! And isn't it laughable? That a five-year-old knows when the Minister of Magic couldn't run the Ministry if he had a step-by-step manual?"

Arthur found that very hard to believe. What five-year-old had opinions about the way the Ministry was run?

"Why are you fighting?" Molly looked sad. This was the little girl that was named after his wife. She bit into her cold piece of toast, smearing apricot jam all over herself. "Am I going to get a pygmy puff? I want to go to Diagon Alley."

Percy just stiffened even more. "We're not fighting," he said apprehensively. "Go pick out your robes for today. I'll help you get ready," Molly nodded her head and ran off with Lucy, who seemed oblivious to the tension in the room.

The second that they left; Percy practically started hyperventilating from fury. "Get out of my flat," he said. _"NOW."_

Arthur almost jumped up from where he was standing. He'd felt unwelcome the second he stepped in his flat, but he'd felt even more unwanted now. It made Arthur feel sick. How would Percy like it if he threw him out of his house? But of course, Arthur wouldn't. Even after the fights over the last few years, Percy still had a room in the Burrow.

 _Percy's not well_ , Arthur tried to tell himself. _He's not sleeping. He can't live up to his crazy high standards. He's stressed himself out beyond what's normal even for him…_

But all this evapourated when he remembered that his daughter practically called him a moron. Arthur had never felt so insulted in his life. He gave all that he had to his children, only for Percy to spit back at his face. It wasn't enough for him. Nothing in the world was ever enough for him. He acted like Arthur was the biggest joke in the world, as if he was an even worse Minister than that bloody Death Eater!

Arthur knew, in that second, that they were going to fight. "What did you tell them about me?"

"I didn't tell them anything about you," Percy's hands shook. "Believe it or not, they read papers. They read more papers than _I_ do actually, because I seem to have lost the time to be able to do so—isn't that funny? And they understand. They understand big words like litigation and political dogma. Every night before they go to sleep, I read them an excerpt on how the Ministry used to be run when it was founded. Because believe it or not, they understand very much what is going on. I have them write me papers every week with assignments that would make Snape's seventh year Potion essays look juvenile. They are not your average five-year-olds. They are _my_ five-year-old girls. And if my daughter decides that the Minister is a lazy arsehole, then who am I to tell her otherwise?"

"You'll have that poor little girl believe that her grandfather is a lazy arsehole?" Arthur was appalled.

"My five-year-old daughter can separate her political feelings from her personal ones," Percy spat out. "Can _you,_ Mr Minister?"

"I'm your father, Percy," Arthur was struck. He felt like he'd just been punched in the face. How dare he talk to him like that? How dare he look at him like he was the scum of the Earth? "I won't let you talk to me like that. I won't."

"I already am," Percy crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"

"Your mother's in the hospital. She has been having some chest pains," Arthur said the news with an irritated tone to his voice. He would've been so much nicer if Percy wasn't such a grade A arsehole. If he'd bothered to respect him. If he didn't always push on his buttons like this, even when Arthur was trying _so_ hard to… "Another parent for you to leave to die alone in the hospital I'm sure, but I thought I'd let you know. Just in case you can be bothered to visit."

Arthur knew he'd gone too far when he saw the look on Percy's face. But this couldn't just all be his fault. Arthur had tried to be pleasant all day long. Percy had practically asked for this.

Still, even then, Arthur wanted to apologise but the apology was stuck in his throat. Percy wasn't apologising for being hostile to him since he'd come into his flat, so why should he? A part of him felt like he was being a child, but Percy always treated him like he could barely understand what was going around with the world. So why bother?

Just as Arthur turned around to walk outside of Percy's flat (and probably dissolve in tears), he heard Molly yell.

" _WAIT!"_ Coming back into the room, Molly was clutching onto a piece of paper that had a pretty drawing of a red, freckled Erumpent with the Ministry logo. "I drew this picture for you, granddad! I wanted to take it to you since this morning! I read in _The Daily Prophet_ that he saved all the baby Erumpents from dying even though the Department of…the-the mean old Magical Creatures department said that you were going to kill them for money. But you didn't!"

Arthur looked down at her. He didn't understand. This was the same girl that just berated him seconds ago, and now was staring at him with shining hopeful brown eyes and a sparsely freckled face.

He was also stunned. He didn't even know that _The Daily Prophet_ had found out about this! Who had leaked the news, considering he'd just told a handful of people yesterday? What was the next bit of shocking news? The Minister of Magic being called a moron by a five-year-old girl? He was sure that Danny Whitby would be knocking on his door, demanding to know why he'd been made a fool of in the Daily Prophet and why his department was now one big joke.

"Err… um… t-thank you, Molly," Arthur said, tentatively taking the beautiful picture of the Erumpent. There was no childlike abandon in this. Every stroke were deliberate. The shading was so even. It was becoming abundantly clear to him that Percy was right and she wasn't a normal five-year-old girl. "Um… uh-… do you know your grandmother's name is Molly?"

"Of course," Molly replied, rolling her eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What did you mean when you said that my Dad wasn't there to see you in the hospital?" Merlin, those children. Minds like a sponge! Arthur wished he could take back what he'd said now, but he couldn't say anything to this beautiful creature that were staring at him with expectant eyes.

Almost instantly, Percy placed a hand on Molly's shoulder. Arthur turned to leave again, feeling his hands shake—

"Isn't granddad going to come with us to Diagon Alley?" Molly asked, and Arthur just froze in his space. He tried to imagine helping Percy go in at Diagon Alley. With his children. In the twins' shop. Arthur couldn't think of a worst thing for them to do. He looked back at Percy, as if waiting for him to tell him to sod off and never come back. "Granddad knows where they sell Pygmy Puffs. He said so himself! And-and you said you weren't fighting…"

But then Percy's face softened. "Yes, alright," he said. "Did you get your robes?" Molly nodded her head.

It became obvious to Arthur now that Percy couldn't say no to them. That was not great, he mused. He didn't tell Percy this, because he didn't want them to have a row. But this wasn't right. It didn't even occur to Percy to refuse her!

But this was how Arthur and Percy ended up, standing in his flat. Both of them tried desperately to ignore what they just said moments before.

"Um… do you want scones, Mr Minister?" Percy asked, still stoic. "Do you want tea? Grace made some cream tea," and when he asked him that, Arthur realised he really had not heard him offer the same thing just over an hour ago.

"I would like some," Arthur was stuffed after the breakfast he had, but he didn't want to go yet. "Yes, thank you."

He sat down an uncomfortable chairs in the living room and was handed tea and a scone.

It was true that by the time that Arthur was Percy's age, Bill was around three years old and Charlie was one. But his only job was to make enough money to get them clothed and fed. Arthur wouldn't become a nutter if he had to work, come home and spend his evenings tending to Charlie's screaming and Bill bickering on about how he wanted a very cheesy jacket potato with half-off spaghetti hoops for dinner. So, it surprised him to see Percy doing all of those things with ease. _I can do this better than you can_ , Arthur's inner Percy monologue said. _And I can do it alone. I don't need you. I've never needed you. And I don't need anyone else._

In about two seconds, Arthur saw Percy show off a skill that had taken Molly years to master: he'd managed to restore his flat to spotless in a matter of minutes. He wiped down the drawings, fix the carpets, clean the chairs and arrange them into perfect symmetrical order with a few waves of his wand. He grabbed a tissue from a box and had wiped off the jam from his children's mouths. All kinds of drowsiness had disappeared from Percy's face.

Arthur had barely tasted the fruit scone that Percy had given him, or the cream tea. By the time that he had his fifth sip, Percy already had his daughters ready to go. But they didn't look like they were going to Diagon Alley. They looked like they were ready for their job interviews, in their matching glittery green robes and their hairs pulled back into tiny little ginger top knots. Percy had had them clipped back with gigantic white butterfly clips. Their shoes alone cost more than Arthur's pension. And then there was Percy, in a loose Quidditch shirt that made him look scrawnier than usual.

Going to Diagon Alley with Percy and his daughters was a very strange thing. And it made him sad because it should be such a natural thing, but Arthur felt like he was about to face a new wizarding war all on his own.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Arthur suddenly asked, even though it was nearing lunch time.

"No," Percy said, his back turned to him. All the anger in Arthur's chest had disappeared and he was suddenly very glad that he was in Diagon Alley with his son, because he really did want to work it out. Why was it that they never did? Even if Arthur had all the right intentions in his mind all the time? Why did they fight so much? How did their relationship turn so sour?

"I have a little on me," Arthur felt like he was saying all the wrong things again. He just knew it. He was getting that sinking feeling in his stomach again. "You should eat something."

"I'm fine," Percy said, and Arthur swore that Percy would be five stones bigger if he didn't feel like he had to retaliate every time someone offered him a meal. Merlin save the bloke that tried to invite him for dinner and pay for him. Percy didn't let anyone pay for him since after his O. . He had a minor job in the summer and used the money he'd collected to get quills for the school year.

"I want a flapjack," Lucy said all of a sudden, and Percy stiffened. "And yoghurt-covered raisins."

"Not now," Percy told her. "Later," he said, but didn't flat-out deny her offer.

 _"OKAY!"_ Lucy walked with a spring in her step. Arthur bit back his tongue. She didn't need yoghurt-covered raisins. Percy needed pants that weren't threadbare.

Arthur was sure that Percy was malnourished. They had to give him a blood transfusion at fourteen because his haemoglobin was so low. Percy thought it was embarrassing, but Molly was horrified and started crushing iron tablets in his hot chocolate after. After Bill and Charlie left home, Molly went on with her usual business, barely noticing their absence. But when Percy left, she was so anxious all the time because she knew that if it was up to Percy, he'd let himself freeze to death in the horrible winter months just to read a few articles at five in the morning for a meaningless report he insisted on doing. He would go on days making himself sick, depressed and alone. Did you see how many holes were in his clothes? Arthur was mystified. Yes, he still wore second-hand clothes, but Percy looked like he found his clothes on the street. Arthur had become embarrassed seeing Percy's wardrobe choices. The last shirt he wore looked like it had been ripped by a werewolf as it transformed!

Looking at him now, Arthur could tell that he was unnaturally pale even for himself. But Arthur bit back his tongue because he knew, beyond anything, that Percy was going to go off on him if he tried to get him to have something. Merlin, you'd think that Arthur was trying to convince him to get a vasectomy with the way that he looked at him when he'd suggested a spot of lunch!

Arthur looked over at Percy's face. He looked like he hated his life. For a second, Arthur remembered that Percy was only twenty-three, because he always seemed ten years older. He always forgot how young Percy was, and that Bill was much older than him. Speaking of Bill, he was terrified at the thought of being a father. Oh, Arthur could imagine Percy's words of encouragement right now: _suck it up, William. You are a grown man! You have a wife! Did you think I wanted to raise my children by myself?_ But Bill was still young. And the only reason Percy had been alone for the past five years was because he _chose_ to be alone. In this day and age, people didn't get married at seventeen and have children before they were twenty-five anymore. They were busy building careers and flourishing because they weren't afraid of a decade long war. But now, Percy had really mucked up. Arthur knew that he'd always wanted to be older but this was absolutely ridiculous. It was reckless even, the fact that he had two girls just a year after he'd left Hogwarts and refused to get any help from anyone else in his family. And because of that, there was now a great big wall between Percy and Arthur and as hard as he tried to look past it, he couldn't. Because how could you ignore the fact that even when he had two infants cradled in his flat, he'd not once thought to tell his own flesh and blood about it?

Arthur felt sick thinking of Astoria. She still wrote lengthy owls to her father about her life, job and Draco and sent them over to _Azkaban_. A convicted Death Eater that left them in poverty for years.

What did that make Arthur? Worse than a Death Eater? What had he done so wrong that had justified this horrible relationship? He'd always wanted the best for all his children. He'd bought Percy an owl after he'd been made prefect. He'd tried as hard as he could to pretend to be interested in all the lengthy, analytical things he told him. He tried to get a good word for him in the Ministry. He almost cried when Percy wore his Ministry robes for the first time. But every time Arthur tried to treat Percy like he was his own age, it was met with resistant. At his fifth year, when he asked about his relationship with other girls, he just scoffed at home and told him he had no time for that. It was two years later that he'd heard about Penelope. From a _work colleague_ … honestly, it broke Arthur's heart!

So, why did it surprise him that Percy was not treating his five-year-old daughters like they were only five? Why did it surprise him that they somehow didn't know that it wasn't normal to be reading Potions articles at six am?

Arthur tried to push his thought aside. But this time, Percy had gone too far. He felt like their relationship would always be broken after this no matter what they did.

"Percy," Arthur said, his voice full of authority. Percy turned around and looked at him with surprise. His daughters had been oohing and ahhing over at a display of exotic red-and-orange flowers for the past fifteen minutes. Percy had been trying to tell them that they didn't have a vase for the flowers. "We are going to eat lunch _now_."

Percy clenched his jaw. "Fine," he said. He watched Lucy bury her nose towards a bouquet and take a sharp inhale. Arthur realised that if he didn't take Percy away now, he'd end up splurging money on flowers that probably gave him allergies just because his five-year-olds thought they were pretty.

"You better eat," Arthur carried on, because he knew Percy. "Don't let it be like one of those times where I force you to go someplace only for to you order, and stare at your plate for an hour. Because I promise you, Percival, I'll shove biscuits down your throat if I have to." He meant it too. He was sick of watching Percy make himself sick all the time. Arthur knew, without a doubt, that Percy's haemoglobin was low, just like he knew that the last time made a senseless purchase was probably in 1993. It was actually shocking that his son still wore the same clothes he did when he was fifteen.

Arthur had seen his flat now. He noticed that his cupboards were filled with Pixie Puff cereal, organic raspberry and apricot jam, fruit scones, yoghurt flavours that he would only eat in a famine and most disturbingly, a jar of peanut butter. He could almost predict seeing a swollen, red-faced Percy in the Accident and Emergency a few weeks from now because his daughters were fingering peanut butter out of the jar and then decided to kiss him goodnight.

He might as well have plastered a sign on his back saying _I Know I'm Conceited But I Don't Care if I Roll Over and Die As Long As Nobody Talks to Me About It_.

"I said _fine_ , didn't I? I'm going to eat with you. I'm not your ickle baby. I know what you mean," Percy spat back, but he knew Percy. He knew that this was what he was going to do if Arthur didn't call him out on it. Arthur would rather have a row about this than pretend like everything was fine.

Arthur felt like he was talking to a brick wall when he talked to Percy. It was like he wanted to be dead by thirty.

He almost wished he didn't say anything. When they got to the restaurant, Percy had made it his personal mission to look for the most dainty and unsustainable meal possible. He ordered an overpriced bowl of kale, with a few carrots, croutons and tomatoes tossed on top. He might as well be eating air and to add to that, he was only picking at it. Arthur was so irritated. He'd bought the lot: steak, chips and bread rolls. He also added mashed potatoes to his order, because there weren't enough carbohydrates on his plate. His daughters were sharing a plate of chips with glops of melted cheese, eying Percy's salad as if it was just about to come to life. After he ate a few mouthfuls of it, Percy drank tea for the rest of his meal. Arthur was sure that that was because it was unpalatable.

After their _wonderful_ meal, Percy bought a bunch of flapjacks and packets of yoghurt-covered raisins. He gave a small packet to Lucy. Arthur resisted the urge to tell him that his daughter had probably forgotten about it by now and she didn't need to have an endless stream of snacks to sustain her. He'd know all about that since he ate approximately once a day.

By the time they got to Fred and George's shop, Percy looked nervous. "You stay outside," he told Arthur. "Do you understand?" he'd never been so degraded in his life.

He might as well be talking to a crup honestly. But Arthur... _obeyed_. He stayed outside and watched as they walked inside Fred and Georges' shop. It was amazing how all those flashing colours didn't give Percy a fit. There were probably more colours in a single one of Fred and George's items than Percy had in his whole flat. Molly and Lucy didn't look to be enjoying themselves in the gaudy-coloured, exciting-looking shop from what Arthur saw. They quickly picked up pygmy puffs from the display by the counter, barely taking time to fight about what flamboyant colours looked best.

Arthur's heart stopped in his chest when he saw Fred and George, and they must've said something terrible because whatever colour was on Percy's skin had disappeared.

What was happening? Why did Percy look like he'd been slapped in the face? Were they saying horrible things? Were they having a row?

Arthur couldn't take waiting anymore, and just opened the door. Almost instantly, he heard Fred say, "Are you okay, you pathetic old prat? Because you look like you've seen a ghost." He paused. "Do you want anymore? Can we interest you in discounted fireworks?" he gestured to the display of pygmy puffs. Percy was fumbling with his robes for Galleons. "Percy? Are you sure you're—"

"Yes, I'm fine," Percy replied, but he didn't sound fine at all. He dropped down a few Galleons on the table. "I absolutely am not interested in anything else you're selling."

"You really don't have to pay, you pathetic old twat," George beamed at him. His smile disappeared and in its place was concern. Wow. What a turnout. The twins were practically acting like nothing happened between them. "You _know_ we made up, right? You're acting like we're still fighting." He looked over at Arthur. "Hey, Dad! How's… how's mum?"

"She's doing better," Arthur said plainly. "I… well, she'd been sleeping a lot. Thought to have her rest up a bit before I come and see her tonight."

"I suppose we really aren't fighting anymore… I did apologise," Percy said softly. "I must have forgotten."

"Only a git like you doesn't know what a fight ended," Fred rolled his eyes. Percy looked dejected. What was up with that? Did he want them to be fighting? Did he realise how mucked up it was that Arthur and him were still fighting? Because Arthur did just now. He didn't realise that Fred and George were seemingly alright with what happened. What about Bill? Charlie? Ron? Ginny? Arthur knew Molly had been talking about sending Percy a basket full of frozen meals just to keep with him in the flat for when he didn't feel like cooking.

"I have to get back to work," Arthur suddenly wished that he hadn't eaten all that greasy overloaded junk because he was feeling nauseated. _You know we made up, right?_ They did make up, so why was it so hard for Arthur to just talk to him normally? Like he used to before the fight that they had? "Um… well, I suppose we'll see you on Sunday."

"Yeah," George nodded his head. "Perce, you're coming too, right? Sunday lunch? We're going to eat with mum in the hospital. We even found this thick slab of something called a nut loaf for you since you won't be having gammon... besides, Charlie, Fred and I were sure she's going to feel so much better if her perfect ickle Percy bothered to visit her," he asked.

Percy just nodded his head. His daughters were about as quiet as Hermione in the library, cowering beside Percy.

Percy insisted on paying even though the twins refused his money the first five times around. After Fred and George begrudgingly took his pay (after Percy accepted a discount), they left the shop. Arthur and Percy didn't say a word to each other after they left. Molly and Lucy barely talked, as they held onto their new bright pink and purple pygmy puffs. They didn't even mention which one they thought looked nicer, or ask for any flapjacks or pretty bouquets of orange-and-red flowers. A morose Arthur stayed silent, even when Percy's stomach started growling.


	27. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 1

_i promised you that this plot would get darker. this next installment should be pretty interesting then..._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Seven: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 1

* * *

"Oh, look what the big, fat dragon dragged in," Madam Malkin was holding a pair of robes that should outright be illegal. He'd seen less revealing lingerie… on _Daphne Greengrass_. "Perfect Prefect Percival Ignatius Weasley, first of his name, King of all the Prats and Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, victim of an undisplaced Colle's fracture in 1992 after he fell on his arm during a Christmas party and of course, the prodigal son. What can I do for you?"

"Besides write my autobiography you mean?" Percy mumbled, wearing his usual scowl. "I need a new pair of robes."

"Oh, _you_ need a new pair of robes?" Madam Malkin cupped her mouth with a mock surprise. Percy rolled his eyes. She should really consider a career in the theatre once she was done writing that manuscript. "My dear, dear Percival, you needed a new pair of robes twenty years ago. Every time I see you walking around Diagon Alley in this year's House Elf Elite, I get on my knees and pray to Merlin that my diabetes blinds me, so I won't have to suffer."

"Oh my! Are you sure you're able to get on your knees with that debilitating arthritis?" Percy asked dryly.

Madam Malkin just rolled her eyes. She just grabbed his face and then looked at him with a stern look on her face. Percy couldn't help but remember watching the telly with Audrey. He'd seen muggle surgeons look at a burn victim with less disgust. "Are you sure you're able to write with those five-stone dinner plates you've been trying to convince everyone are your glasses?" she asked, and Percy's cheeks turned pink. "You know, Percival, you could be really handsome if you could just—you know, put on half a stone. Fix up your hair… oh and get a face transplant."

"You mean I could look wonderful if I didn't look like myself at all?" Percy replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, well, there aren't many women that are swooning over that pathetic, overworked prat look," Madam Malkin replied as she pulled up his arm. If it was up to her, he'd be tanned and muscular, and covered in more oil than a box of Cheeri-Owls. Oh, that woman wouldn't be happy unless he gave _skrewt_ a new name. "Your father was quite a looker in his days, you know. Artsy Artie… not because an aspiring portrait artist mind you. He could do things with his hands that made you feel like you just drank a bottle of Amortentia. I'm sure your mum told you all about that!"

"No, my mum and I don't usually talk about the events that led her to produce seven off-springs," Percy replied hotly.

Percy would rather be shoved by the wall by Marcus Flint as he headed over to his double Potions class.

"Suit yourself," Madam Malkin smirked at him. "Get it? I work in a clothing shop. Suit. Yourself." She gestured towards her new rack of half-suit half-robes hybrid. They were the sort of thing that Percy would wear if he planned to rob Gringotts's tonight. But he supposed that it was nice of Madam Malkin to sell robes to aspiring criminals.

"Absolutely not," Percy was not buying that. "Do I look like an emotionally unstable vampire to you?"

"Of course not," Madam Malkin huffed, staring at her new vampire robes line. _Just because you're sleeping in a coffin all day doesn't mean you can't look great! Look less dead today!_ was the tagline. "That would be an insult to the vampires."

"I understand… you don't want to upset the relatives?" Percy replied with a raised eyebrow, only for her to laugh.

Oh, so now he was beneath the creatures that the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures classified as beasts? How wonderful. If he knew that he was going to be degraded today, he might as well have stayed in his flat. He did plenty of that in his spare time! It was his bloody hobby at this point. In fact, he was better at it than anyone else could. If he really had a go at it, he could make himself cry in less than a minute flat.

But nothing was more depressing than having to look at a pair of robes that promised to make him _three inches taller!_

Knowing Malkin as well as he did? Percy was particularly sure that they were not talking about his height.

"So, Percival," Madam Malkin began, looking about as smug as Fred and George were when they played a particularly clever prank on him… but he just didn't know it yet. "Are these robes for a special occasion? Was your haemorrhoid treatment successful? Or are you celebrating the fact that you've showed less emotional than cardboard in the last twenty years? Perhaps, you finally gained all-exclusive life-time access to the Dementor club?"

"It depends, madam," Percy said with an unchanging expression. "Did you put in a good word for me?"

Madam Malkin rolled her eyes and then playfully pushed him back with her hand. "You had the livelihood of a Thestral," she told him, and Percy just shrugged. Yes, he knew that, but so what? As he just stood there like a lumbering fool, Madam Malkin threw five pairs of robes at him that looked like they'd look wonderful if he looked a lot more Gilderoy Lockhart and a lot less like a plastered fifth year suffering from a fatal case of dragon pox. "Here try this on. It's a nice yellow—it'll go with the fact that jaundiced look that you've been trying to achieve!"

"It's not my fault I look jaundiced," Percy mentioned, "The lightning here could make a _Witch Weekly_ model look like she's about to die from consumption! And heavens, Malkin, just because you've been suffering from gout for the last decade doesn't mean that the rest of us have to! These carpets are about as comfortable as an enema!"

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Madam Malkin replied. "With that stick up your arse!"

Percy sighed. He tried on the first few robes but decided not to buy them because he wanted a change-up from the usual. After all, if he wanted to look like a waffly twat, he could just wear what he already had in his closet.

"I like that," she said. He donned on his fifth pair of robes. They were pale blue. "It brings out the blue in your eyes."

Percy did not understand what that meant whatsoever. " _Err_ , Madam… you'd have to be blind not to see that my eyes are blue," he said. "I don't see how a pair of robes are supposed to make them any bluer than they already are. It's physiologically impossible. And even if it was true, wizarding statistics showed that women much prefer green."

Madam Malkin sighed deeply. "How could someone so smart have the social skills of a decomposing corpse?"

"Well…I guess _you_ don't dig it," Percy smirked a little at her, only to receive a slap with her cane. "Ouch!"

"Your humour is about as invigorating as the Draught of Living Death!" she told him. Ha. Percy was impressed. He didn't think that she had a knowledge of anything potion or charms related when the most important information she had was how pale blue robes made your eyes much bluer than they were. Why, it was like magic! "Are you actually going to buy something, Percival or do you want me to call the healers and ask them to evaluate you for glaucoma?"

She tossed a pair of white robes towards him. They were very fitting, if he was a ponce about to get married.

"Madam, I know that you said that your diabetes could blind you…" he scoffed, "But I'm afraid it already has!"

He did eventually end up buying a pair of robes that didn't make him look too gittish.

"Oh," Madam Malkin said when he tossed over a pair of Slytherin-green robes towards her—on Daphne Greengrass' request of course. He doubted that she would oblige to his request to wear something elegant. Last year, she wore a pair of robes that could've made a Knockturn Alley prostitute blush. "You're showing your true colours now! Well, try not to be too much of a git tonight. You know how these things go… one moment you're boring someone to sleep and the next you'd end up with a well-deserved black-eye before the end of the night!"

"Don't worry, madam," he said. "I'm sure that that blackeye would make my eyes look even _bluer_."

Percy tried not to wince when he had to give her more money than he usually did for his robes shopping.

As he left the shop, Percy tried to mentally prepare himself for tonight. After all, he could imagine that he would be drinking tonight, which meant that he was going to embarrass himself at some point. And it wasn't because he was a lightweight. No, it was because he was a closeted alcoholic that didn't know when to say no when it came to free alcohol. He had a feeling he'd be so plastered that he'd be rendered into a vegetative state by three in the morning.

With enough shopping bags in his hands to make himself seriously consider going to a shopaholics anonymous meeting; Percy apparated back to his flat. He also walked up all those flights of stairs and almost passed out. Why did he have to walk up through eight flights of stairs?

Of course, despite the fact that he had left to get dress robes for the Ministry Ball, he had to empty whatever pebbles was in his Gringott's account. He had made an impulse purchase of three beautiful-looking dress robes for Molly and Lucy that they most definitely did not need because their closet was already bursting with more robes than Madam Malkin's itself. He had also decided to buy himself half-off lentil soup that might give him botulism. But he couldn't get past how cheap it was. They were almost paying him off to eat it. For the girls, he promised to bring back a pint of their favourite peanut butter and vanilla ice-cream. Percy could already feel his hands swell more than his bloody head. His flat was stocked in more nuts than a Quidditch team and it was like manoeuvring through the Hogwarts battle every morning when he was reaching in for his ninety-percent-sugar-ten-percent-fruit jam.

As always, the flat was pristine when he left but was now an absolute state. Molly and Lucy were curled up on a mattress on the ground. They manage to share a blanket without starting the third wizarding war, which was unheard of. Between them, there was a copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , as well as an analytical paper on the impact of fairy tales on society.

Little Lucy was drooling all over the pillowcase. Molly, like dear old Aragog, had her limbs spread out everywhere.

It would have been an endearing display if the sight of Penelope Clearwater did not make him nearly wet himself.

Penelope Clearwater was sitting on a chair in his flat. He was absolutely sure that he had never given her a key and he didn't give her the permission to apparate to his flat without telling him. He felt like he was about to have a massive coronary when he noticed how paper-white she was. Absolutely brilliant. It wasn't like he was already having a horrible day because the last thing he wanted to do was attend the Ministry Ball—especially after sleeping for a majestic total of six hours in the last three days. He didn't want to talk to Penelope. She looked like she'd seen a bloody ghost.

"Percy," Penelope placed her hands on her lap. Merlin, did these girls ever come by with _good_ news? You know, like they wanted to share their immense joy at being friends with him? A dinner invitation? Why did they always have to come with the most horrific, debilitating news? "Are... are you okay?"

"No, I'm absolutely exhausted and I wish I was dead," Percy replied back in a stoic tone. What did she expect him to say? He had lethal amounts of caffeine potions in his blood and his father would rather talk to an Azkaban prisoner than share a cup of coffee with him. "What is it this time? What do you want from me?"

Penelope closed her eyes. "Please don't say that," she said softly. "Because I know when you say that, you're not just joking. I know that you actually mean it." Percy did not want to sober up to that reality either, so he didn't reply to that.

"I'm not talking about this in here," Percy was sure there wasn't a force on earth that could wake them up, but he didn't want to risk it. He saw Daphne peer from his door, looking at him with glossy eyes. "To my room. Now."

Penelope nodded her head. "I'm sorry that it had to be this way," she said softly. "Daphne…she let me in. She—"

"Percy," Daphne looked at him very seriously. "She said that… she had something important to say and—"

"I don't care," Percy didn't want to talk about that anymore. Daphne looked like she was started to get ready. Her hair looked more sparkling and golden than ever. Oh well, at least he didn't have to make the effort of picking her up for their date tonight.

Godric, he had to pretend to smile whilst his father gave his speech at the Ministry Ball tonight. Disgusting.

Percy put his shopping bags down but didn't walk in any further. He crouched down on his knees and then slowly undid Lucy's scrunchie. She groaned, and pushed him up with her fist. She stirred but didn't open her eyes. Percy hated himself for making them stay up at times. Their naps had been progressively been getting longer, but if they slept at a decent hour, he was never going to see his daughters. They stayed up for him even when he came back home at one am. How could he not hate himself? How could he be content with his career when he had to come home to _that?_

"Godric, Percy, I'm so sorry," Penelope said, crouching down beside him. That was when he should've known how serious it was. He had a sinking feeling in his chest but was still too tired to process it then. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" he felt his chest tighten but he ignored it. She squeezed his arm and then disappeared into his room.

Percy should have known but the thought hadn't percolated through his sleep-deprived mind. He walked to his room with the energy of a mountain troll with debilitating arthritis. He could barely make it inside. He was so tired that he didn't think that anything that Penelope would say could shock him. Grace and Daphne were stood by his desk, staring at him. There were enough dress robes sprawled from one end of the bed to another to probably fill up a _Witch Weekly_ catalogue. Percy sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at a shaky Penelope.

Daphne placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. She and Grace left, only glancing back to see them.

"What is it?" Percy asked, feeling his throat hurt. His heart started to race, and he was beginning to feel nauseous. "What was so important that you had to come into my flat and tell it to my face?"

"I—well…" Penelope shook her head. Her big blue eyes were already swimming with tears. She sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his hand like she was about to tell him that one of his family members died. "Is… is this okay?"

"Penelope," Percy's voice was stern. "If you don't tell me in the next three seconds what you're doing here, I—"

"Audrey lied to you," Penelope whispered. "And I didn't know, Percy. I promise that I didn't know. Not about _this_."

Percy tried to stay tense and stiff, but on the inside, his heart was already aching. "Audrey is dead, Penelope. In the ground, rotting away, never to breathe again," he challenged hotly. "What could she have possibly lied about five years ago that affects me today?" as cold as that was, it was the truth. He doubted anything Penelope could tell him would change his life right now.

"You'd be surprised," Penelope whsipered. "I just…I really didn't know. I know that I haven't been the best friend—"

"No, you're the absolute worst friend I've ever had," Percy cut her off. "And if you don't just cut to the bloody chase—"

"They aren't yours!" Penelope exclaimed. "Percy, Molly and Lucy aren't actually yours."

He was sure that time genuinely stopped in that second. He was not in this world. He couldn't be.

"Percy?" Penelope went even whiter. She looked like she could be a poltergeist. "I…I really didn't want to say it like that. I wish that you didn't have to hear from me. I know how much you care about them, but-but I—"

"I don't believe you," Percy called out in a soft voice. He was sweating so much. He felt The Unruly Thing become unrulier.

Penelope placed a hand on his warm, flushed cheek. "Yes, you do," he felt no comfort whatsoever.

"No, I don't," Percy just stared at her for a moment. He felt his whole body become numb. His heart had suddenly slowed down, but he felt an ache in his chest that made him want to tear his beating bloody heart straight out. His throat felt dry and he felt like he'd just been whacked by a Bludger in the gut. "I don't believe you. I can't. If I believe you, then I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know," he sounded out, feeling himself start to unravel.

After the numbness went away, there came panic. They were his! He was the one that raised them! They had his hair! His face! His... his... they were his.

Penelope smiled weakly at him. He never wished he could hurt a woman like this before. "I know."

"No, you bloody don't," Percy looked away from her. His hands were shaking so much it was almost like he was convulsing, and he genuinely felt like he was about to be sick. "Audrey might not have loved me, but she…" he paused, because he didn't want to think about the fact that maybe it really was all a ruse. "I…"

Percy placed a hand on his chest. "I was there on her death bed. She wouldn't have looked at me in the eyes and told me that…" one of the most traumatising experience in his life took on a new meaning and he had no idea what to do. Was he really going to feel betrayed by a girl that had been dead for five years? "They have my eyes, my hair, my…"

"I thought so too," Penelope said, and then she pulled out a picture from her purse. "This is him, Percy. This is their... their real father."

Percy saw the picture and then he saw Molly and Lucy merge into one bloke. He was redheaded with big blue eyes, just like Percy, but he was just about the most attractive bloke that he'd ever seen. He could see Molly's nose and the fair-coloured freckles on Lucy's cheek. He even had Lucy's bloody smile for Merlin's sake. He…

"No," Percy felt his throat ache. How stupid was he? Did he think that he was the only redhead in all of Britain?

"I'm so sorry," Penelope repeated again. If he had a Galleon for every time she'd said that thus far? "Percy, I really wish it wasn't true. I really wish that I had something else to say."

Penelope had her arms wrapped around him, and he felt disgusted because he was sweating through his shirt.

"She wrote a letter," Penelope explained but he didn't want to read that letter in the same way that he did not want someone to perform a rectal exam on him. "I went to visit her sister a week back and there was a letter in her room, addressed to you. She… she never mailed it to you, Percy, but she… Percy, this bloke… his name is Christopher Fearn. Audrey took two paternity tests for it. She knew all along. But Christopher left her because she wanted to settle down with him and he refused. She was so far along in the pregnancy than she couldn't get rid of them."

Penelope moved away from him, and slowly extracted a pristine envelope from her little white purse.

"Percy, I looked up who he was. He… he's not a muggle. He's a muggleborn," Penelope said, laughing through tears. "He works in the Muggle Liaison office. You probably passed him on the lift some time. You…"

The thought that he passed by Molly and Lucy's 'real' father made him want to set the Ministry on fire.

"Oh Godric, please stop talking." Percy demanded. "Please."

The envelope had already been torn open. Addressed to him. Audrey's handwriting. He read the words, but they could not permeate through his overworked brain. His head felt so cloudy and dense. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up because the pain that he felt was too much.

At the same time, he felt numb. He was sweating but he was shivering from how cold he felt.

The silence must've lasted twenty minutes. He read the letter over and over. He couldn't believe that she never told him. He couldn't believe that he loved someone who didn't even have the courage to tell him this. Penelope held onto his arm, but it offered him no comfort. He felt like he'd just swallowed a wand. He was choking.

He started to feel seriously clammy when he got to the other document in the letter. The amniocentesis results.

"I…I named my daughter after her," Percy said, feeling the sharp pain of betrayal hit him suddenly. "My…Merlin, Penny. I... I loved her."

Penelope placed her hand on his shoulder. "Percy, he wants them."

Percy was sure he almost starting laughed. What the fuck did he want with his daughters?

"Audrey only refused him to be involved with their lives because he didn't want to marry her," she said. "And Valentina was there when I found these. She read them too. She phoned him… and I think that Christopher wants to take it to the Wizengamot. That's why I'm here, because honestly, Percy, I don't think I would've ever told you if there wasn't a chance that he was going to..."

Percy closed his eyes. He felt tears burning into his eyes. He never even considered that. He was so bloody daft. He—

"It's going to be okay," she said softly. "Percy, you've been taking care of them for five years. They love you. They—"

Percy shook his head. "Don't be daft, Penny," he said coldly. "I have a history. They're going to…"

Penelope winced, because they both knew what they were talking about. The second that he walked into the court, he was going to be made unfit because he had a documented drinking problem and admitted, under numerous times when he was almost black-out drunk, to the hospital staff that he was seriously depressed.

"I can't lose them," Percy felt so selfish. He just couldn't imagine his life without them. He didn't even want to consider the possibility than them living with Fearn would be a better life for them. "I _can't."_

"I hope you never do," Penelope's words weren't particularly reassuring. "But I'm here every step of the way. And Daphne too, if you tell her. And your family if you..."

Percy couldn't imagine telling his family this. He could barely imagine accepting it himself. The look of pity on his mum's face would honestly destroy him.

He knew the second that Penelope told him that it was true, because he'd have been a fool to believe otherwise. It was ridiculous that he didn't have his own suspicions before.

An eighteen-year-old muggle girl suddenly came to him in his seventh month of pregnancy, and he didn't question that at all. No, like the pathetic prat he was, he'd managed to fall in love with her to the point where he was still mourning her death five years afterwards. A muggle girl that he knew all of three bloody months and he acted like they'd had a romance that could rival with his parents. Audrey didn't even love him. She just used him as a means to an end. Even now, he could hear Candace shrieking at him, blaming him for her death. He didn't understand how one fight and a little gloating he did in his youth could possibly warrant this. He didn't understand why he was being punished like this.

Even feeling the ache of this betrayal, Percy still felt that five-year-old guilt looming over him. Why was an unconditional love supposed to be earned like this? Why was he so unlovable?

He didn't get her pregnant, so why did it still feel like he was the reason that she died? Because he was there to see her labour through her last bloody words? Every strong feeling that he felt with her—with anyone ever—suddenly felt very fake and unremarkable. She dared to lie to his face as she took her last breath. What was he supposed to feel, knowing that? Was the love and the care that he had for his daughters supposed to be unnoticed by the Wizengamot because he had an addiction that he was trying to manage despite the fact that he was running the whole bloody Ministry by himself? Did they expect him to be ecstatic, bringing up two girls by himself in the height of the war with virtually no support from anybody?

Percy had to earn everything in his life, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would have to earn his own daughters in court because some bastard suddenly discovered that his daughters were still alive after all this time. Honestly. What stopped Christopher Fearn from reaching out in the last five years? They worked in the same bloody building! He'd honestly seen fifth years actively pursue their lost owls with more interest. Percy raised them and loved them with all that he had. He didn't want to go to court just to be told that what he was just wasn't enough.

Why? Because they didn't share blood? As if that meant anything. Percy still wasn't 100% sure if his father ever regretted having such a git for a son.

And Godric, he had the most uneventful childhood and look at how he turned out. Percy had so much self-hate in himself that sometimes he genuinely wanted to claw out his skin on a daily basis. He genuinely fantasised about dying in the same way that others fantasised about having a two-week holiday. How were his daughters going to be like if this came to light? They'd already lost their bloody mother. How were they supposed to cope with the fact that they had a father they didn't know about and that they had been raised by a random redhead that had the most useless 12 O.W.L's in existence? They were five years old for Merlin's sake. Even as mature as they were, they were five.

How was he supposed to be able to make this situation as painless as possible for them when it was tearing him apart on the inside? Percy could barely believe it himself. The thought of having to change their day-to-day schedules and relinquish that control over to someone else made the future seem bleak and life seem fruitless. And what was the point of 12 O.W.L's when he was so daft that he didn't bother doing a paternity test before? Now, his poor little girls were going to have to suffer because of his gullibility. He was sure that he had met more inquisitive house-elves than himself. Why was he so quick to believe her? And was he really going to take his daughters away from their real father because _he_ didn't want to let them go?

Penelope stayed with him in his room. He didn't know how he ended up lying on his bed. He didn't even have the luxury to be happy about the fact that for the first time in ages, he had someone else lying next to him so that he didn't feel so alone. Ironically enough, this was the loneliest that he'd ever felt in ages.

Percy finally got the chance to sleep after days of getting past the most minimal amounts of sleep, and he couldn't even close his eyes. He felt so physically and mentally exhausted, but he was also terrified to fall asleep. He was bloody terrified that when he woke up, Molly and Lucy wouldn't be there anymore. And no matter what he did, he couldn't stop crying. How utterly humiliating. After a few minutes of him tossing and turning in bed, Penelope went to go get him a cup of tea that she practically forced him to drink. Percy knew the second he started drinking it that he was going to pass out because it was laced with Dreamless Sleep.

An hour after he fell asleep, he felt little hands tugging at his robe sleeve. Percy opened his eyes and then found his daughters staring up at him with big eyes. They were already dressed in their pretty lavender-coloured robes and had their new violet shoes with pink glitter on by themselves.

"Dad, we're going to be late for the party at your job!" Lucy shrieked excitedly. "Clark is going to be there."

Molly nodded her head. "They're going to have a presentation on the history of Azkaban," she reminded him. She tugged at his sleeve again, as if that was going to make him slightly less comatose. "And before you say anything, you promised that we can go too. You even asked if they were going to have other people our age and they said yes!"

How could he say no to that? Especially when he knew they had problems socialising with other people.

Percy could barely keep his eyes open, even though the sight of them warmed his heart. "Alright," he said weakly.

He looked back at Penelope and felt almost jealous. What a dicotomy! He didn't want to lose his daughters but at the same time, he couldn't be bothered to go to the stupid Ministry Ball for their sake. Percy sat up on the edge of his bed, feeling even worse than before. His chest felt funny, and he generally did not feel as bad as he did right then. Looking at the time, Percy was sure that Daphne was already there at the Ministry Ball, just as he was sure that he already missed at least two of his father's most important speeches and was going to be reamed for it.

This night was going to be horrible. He just knew it.

About an hour later, he was in the Ministry ballroom in his new robes, feeling less than confident. Fortunately for him, Molly and Lucy had already found Clark and had started talking about what they'd already missed. He was sure that Molly wouldn't let him forget about the fact that they'd already missed so many important lectures because he was too busy napping. Percy was pretty sure that his daughters were under the impression that he was always asleep.

Feeling the room starting to spin, Percy sat down at a table. He was starting to feel so hot that he shifted uncomfortably in his new dress robes. He hadn't seen Daphne yet, and he was actually glad for that. Percy didn't think he could explain what he was doing there when he should be asleep. But after being sat at the table for five minutes being awkward and unsociable, he walked over to the bar.

This was the absolute last place he should be. He knew that, but he couldn't help himself.

He downed down three firewhiskeys in about ten minutes, and he had not eaten since noon. But because he drank so often, he only felt the warmth from the alcohol without the buzz. Great. Not even his vice could help him feel any better. He was about to order another firewhiskey (and something a 'little' stronger) when he was interrupted.

"Percy Weasley," he heard a voice behind him that made him shudder. It was one of the most condescending tones that he'd ever heard in his life. Percy turned behind and nearly fell of his stool. The second he saw that face; he felt his heart start racing. "Christopher Fearn," he said, and then extended his hand out. "It's nice to finally meet you. We have a _lot_ to talk about."

Percy reacted the only sane way he could. "Get away from me!" he yelled, and then he punched Christopher in the face.


	28. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 2

_i have to warn you for mentions of rape (not in this chapter and no, don't worry, it's not a Muggle Me-ish chapter. it's not Percy or the girls.)_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Eight: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 2

* * *

"Your thyroid hormones are high? The healer says it's probably genetic?" Arthur was incredulous. This was ten minutes after healer told him that Molly had high levels of thyroid hormones. "But-but Mols… you're forty-eight!"

"Thank you, Arthur," Molly said in a clipped tone. Godric, what did she expect him to say? The most exciting thing they'd done in the last few years was nap vigorously for an hour up until supper time where they would eat stodgy pieces of bread before going back to bed. The last time that they'd gone out on a date was probably before the Cure for Dragon Pox was invented. He bet that there was moss growing on a rock right now that had a more engaging romantic life. "You know, now that you're the Minister of Magic, your ego seemed to have inflated. I'd be careful if I was you. Because if it gets any bigger, I'm not sure if you're going to have much more room in my bed."

"Your-your bed? I… look, sweetheart, that's… that's not fair!" Arthur cried out in disbelief. He cheeks coloured in. He didn't think he'd changed that much. Had he? He'd been visiting her every day until they kicked him out. Their conversations was limited to her going off about how all the nurses had the care of a pregnant hippogriff. What else could she possibly want? "Nobody thinks that I've changed besides _you_ , my love. I don't think that Bill, Charlie or—"

"I'm sure Percy would beg to differ," Molly said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was sat at the edge of her bed.

 _Not this again!_ Arthur could run a country by himself, but it wasn't the least bit impressive to his wife because her precious Percy was staying in the office past five to finish his work. He ran his hand through whatever hair he had left.

"Is that what this is about? Percy?" Arthur shouldn't have been surprised. "Molly, what do you want me to do?"

"Besides treat him like a human being you mean?" Molly challenged, her chocolate brown eyes hardening into shells.

He was not going to be able to finish nearly half the paperwork that he could if he didn't scrap some of the workload off to Percy. "I'm running a country all by myself. I'm so stressed I could barely sleep at night! He's my assistant, Mols," Arthur tried to make her understand. "I doubt I have time to consider Percival's _feelings_ on the matter!"

"Since when have you started calling him Percival?" Molly crossed her arms.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply to this, but when did he start calling him Percival?

"He already apologised. This fight ended. Even your children know that," the tone that she used with him was colder and more threatening than a Dementor being hit by a freezing charm. "Honestly, do you even think of him as your son anymore? I saw him eating lunch outside the Ministry, and he paled when he saw me because he knew I'd talk his ear off. He was so anxious that he was sweating even more than I was and _I'm_ the one with the high thyroid levels! He's finally been putting on weight last I saw him and now he's lost it all and more. His cheeks are so sharp they could cut through a Victoria sponge. And Godric, he was eating chocolate biscuits for lunch! Biscuits!"

Arthur was stunned. Did she just imply that he was the problem here? He couldn't change Percy's personality!

"Of course, I know he's my son! What kind of question is that?" Arthur was stunned that Molly would ask him that. No, he didn't want to overload Percy like this, but the amount of work that was piling in on his desk was nauseating. He did not have the money to hire staff because the whole Ministry was even broker than he had been.

"Mollywobbles, listen… you know how he's like. I told him to finish his paperwork. _I_ did not tell him that he should do it whilst functioning on ten minutes sleep, subsisting on nothing but air," Arthur argued vehemently. "And I know that he's not doing a great job of handling it, but I don't have the time to look after him like he's a bloody child."

Molly looked at him in a way that his Potions professor used to look at him, like he was a lost cause.

"He _is_ a bloody child, Arthur," Molly reminded him in a sharp tone. "And I don't think you understand that Percy comes home to five-year-old girls, which he takes care of by himself. Need I remind you that you were pretty wrecked having to come to Bill and Charlie at his age and you didn't have to attend to their every whim and desire."

Arthur knew perfectly well what Percy came home to, because Molly never let him forget that. "And did you forget that I was also part of Order of the Phoenix at the time?" He had been dealing with a lot on his plate. "I—"

"He's just going from one job to the next!" Molly yelled. She probably would've offered to look after them but knowing Percy, Arthur was sure that he'd deny anyone's help anyway and it wasn't like she could now that she was at the hospital. Why should he spend two hours trying to convince Percy to take a break, only for them to have another fight because he was so stubborn? "When is he going to have time for himself, do you think? When he's dead?"

Arthur knew what they said about Percy in the Ministry. They had his face on a plaque that said _Most Likely to Have Stroke by Thirty_. The girl at Ministry Munchies gave him an eighty percent discount because she felt bad for him.

"Molly, that's enough," Arthur was sick of her consistently being on Percy's side. Even when he sent back her jumper, she didn't dare say anything bad about him. She nearly tore Ron a new one every week. He was sure that the thought of sending Percy a Howler gave Molly more palpitations than her thyroid condition ever could. "I'm trying my best. I've always tried my best, so I don't understand why this time it's not enough for you."

Molly scoffed. "Because I know that this is not your best," she told him. "I know you could do better."

 _Well, how?_ He was about to retort to her but then the healer visited them again to talk about her 'hyperthyroidism'. Arthur listened to every word he said like he was about to take an exam about her condition, because he didn't know much about it at all.

"High amounts of thyroid hormone in the bloodstream, like she has, could give her these palpitations that she feels with this chest pain. Her sisters came back with the same problem before and her mum—there's a strong family history here," the healer explained. Blimey, Arthur thought. That condition of hers was as inefficient and lost in transit as an important international package being dealt with in the Department of Magical Transportation. He was just glad that they caught it now so they could help her. "Too much thyroid hormone makes you more agitated and nervous, which is why you have trouble sleeping and are always anxious. It's also why you've been losing so much weight even though you've not changed your diet and feeling hot all the time. I really recommend trying to reduce the stress in your life. There are some potions that I'll give you and I'll refer you to a more specialised healer."

Molly nodded her head. "Well, I have seven children," she said. "It's hard not to worry, especially since one of them was directly involved with the war with Harry Potter." She was putting this on Ron? Arthur scoffed.

"She's gotten anxious ever since one of my sons left the house five years ago," Arthur said, earning a glare from her.

"Not this again," Molly spat out coldly. Yes, _this_ again. Because it was true.

Arthur and Molly both knew that she had become more anxious after Percy left the house. She was always wondering if he was alright because he couldn't be bothered to send an owl to his mum to let her know that he hadn't died. As the healer explained more about her condition, Arthur zoned out. The words he used were impossible to understand.

When it came to things like this, he needed things to be dumbed down to the level of a first year.

"But is this a serious condition, Mr Green?" Molly asked anxiously. "It's not something you could die from, yes?"

"Well, typically, it's not a deadly disease," the healer explained. _Typically_. Arthur zeroed in on that and felt his heart race. Well, he didn't care how much he disagreed with his wife he was not going to take anything lightly. "But sometimes because your heart is working so quickly, it could exhaust it. But from the tests we've done on you, your heart seems to be fine. But there is a rare complication, madam, called a thyroid storm in people that are left untreated and are put in high stress situations. But you shouldn't have to worry about that since we already started giving you potions for it."

Arthur was not sure what in Merlin's name that meant, but Molly seemed convinced because she obviously had a degree in advanced endocrinology from all the years that she spent combating sniffles and rubbing down sore knees whilst he sat around in his shed, doing nothing of value.

"We'll follow you up in the clinic," the healer said. Arthur was already mentally marking the date and freeing up his calendar for the day. "You can go home now that we're sure there's nothing wrong with your heart."

"Are you sure?" Arthur didn't want Molly to leave. He didn't know if it was safe.

"Thank you, sir," Molly said to the healer, who just nodded his head. He looked back at Molly, who looked ecstatic about being told that she could leave the hospital and come back later for further evaluation.

"Molly? Are you alright?" Arthur asked, looking over at her. "Don't you want to stay here for a few more days?"

"There's really not much else we can do for her, Mr Minister," the healer told him. He didn't trust anyone with Green in the name, as pitiful and as childish as that sounded that he still had a grudge on Slytherins at the age of forty-eight.

Molly sighed. "I'm not talking to you, Arthur." Well, at least she was already starting to reduce the stress in her life!

He didn't want to tell her that they were playing a surprise roast here in the hospital. Fred and George were preparing the proteins, and Arthur was slightly relieved that he did not have to eat roast chicken that had been in their flat.

"I'm not talking to you until you sort things out with Percy," Molly decided to tell him. "He's your son."

To be honest, Arthur was feeling on edge. It was Percy this, Percy that, poor Percy that was just _so_ misunderstood.

"I know he's my son," Arthur told her. "He's the one that's pushing me away. He's the one that's alienating me, and I'm the one that's never good enough for him. What do you want me to do for him, Molly? He thinks I'm a joke, even as the Minister. Everything I say is met with resistance, and I'd have to fight tooth and nail for him to listen to me. I couldn't get him to take a break if I forced him to do it and every day is just another fight waiting to happen!"

Molly scoffed. "You're the Minister of Magic," she said. "Figure it out yourself. If you can't run your house without my help, how in Merlin's name am I supposed to believe that you can run a whole country by yourself?"

Arthur sighed deeply, because she wasn't listening to him. But why did that surprise him?

Truth was Molly had been acting unlike herself ever since they had that fight with Percy ages ago. Arthur really tried not to play favourites, but he knew that Molly did. When Bill and Charlie left, life went on as normal even though they were in different countries! Percy was a Floo call away and Molly was sent in a state that was unlike anything that he'd ever seen, especially when he was smug enough to send back that Christmas jumper.

Arthur's respect for Percy went down drastically when he saw that package that day. He didn't even consider that doing that would make his mum miserable on her favourite holiday of the year. He just didn't care.

Arthur loved his wife, but she always made leeway for Percy because he was so different. She always felt like she had to protect him or else everyone else would hurt him. Arthur was sure that was why he grew up being so conceited. He had always been shielded by Molly, always pampered to an excess. Even though they didn't have a lot of money, Arthur knew for a fact that Molly was more likely to spend on Percy's things than she was on anyone else's.

She wouldn't send him off to his first year with Charlie or Bill's hand me downs. _He's taller than them_ was her excuse. Taller than them? Yeah right. Out of Bill, Percy and Ron, Ron was the tallest and nobody bought him any new robes.

Arthur was stunned when he realised that Percy thought that he was undervalued and that nobody cared about what he had to say! Really? Molly would probably tear the whole house apart if he thought that was the best thing to do. His brothers and Ginny certainly didn't complain about him receiving obviously preferential treatment over them, but he would have a fit if he thought that he wasn't getting what he needed. In his fifth year, he was solely in charge of the house's spending decisions. Arthur had no say in it whatsoever, even though he was the one that was making the bloody money in the first place. If Percy told Molly to eschew buying Arthur's favourite cottage cheese brand to skimp on a few extra sickles, she'd listen to him, but… Godric touch his Honeyduke's honeycomb chocolates! Which was double the price of any cottage cheese Arthur could buy, mind you.

He cared for Percy like he cared for the rest of his children, but Arthur didn't understand how he had turned out to be such a narcissistic twat. He loved Percy with all of his heart, but he couldn't stand to be around him.

Even though she said she wasn't talking to him, the fight continued on into the house.

"Why are you always like this?" Molly's voice was tearful, but Arthur was still standing his ground. Her whole body was shaking. Her robes were so big because of all the weight she'd been losing, even though she'd eaten a whole roast dinner yesterday complete with an Eton mess cheesecake for dessert. "Why can't you just forgive him?"

"I did forgive him," Arthur was sick of having this conversation. "Things aren't going to change overnight—"

"Oh no! Things are never going to change between you two," Molly climbed up the stairs. Arthur followed her, feeling his heart pump in her chest. "You think that I'm the only one that feels this way! Well, I'm not. Everyone thinks that you're being unfair to him. Even Ron thinks that you're not treating him right and he's too busy trying to ignore me because I keep asking him when he's going back to Hogwarts to finish off the year."

Arthur didn't honestly believe that. "Mollywobbles, I—"

"Don't Mollywobbles me!" she yelled with a trembling fist. "If he dies in that building, you'd be the last to know."

Molly slammed the door in his face and said that she wasn't talking to him for the rest of the day.

"Die from what?! The war is over, love!" Arthur finally found the courage to yell back. "Percy is perfectly fine! He's not going to collapse and suddenly pass away at the ripe age of twenty-three!"

She didn't answer him, and Arthur sighed. He walked down to the kitchen, waiting for Bill, Charlie, the twins, Ron or Ginny to come back home so that he could tell them to keep an eye on her. He didn't have a healer's degree and he had no idea how dangerous high amounts of any hormone in your blood was—his wife had plenty of oestrogen too it seemed. Arthur tried to tell himself that it couldn't be that bad if the healer let her go home, but Arthur was feeling tentative. He made himself a sandwich that he could barely choke down because of how anxious he felt.

How was it that Percy hadn't lived in this house for years and he was still a hot topic? He'd be pleased to know how important he was, Arthur scoffed at the thought. Molly just didn't understand how hard he was trying with him.

As he was eating through his tasteless chicken sandwich, Bill walked into the house, covered from head to toe in mud, followed by Charlie, Ron and Ginny. They'd obviously been playing Quidditch because they were still fighting about who won and who cheated. Arthur's heart raced when he realised how much mud they were trekking in.

"What are you doing?" Arthur waved around his butter knife frantically. "Your mum can't clean this up!"

Arthur anxiously started waving around his wand frantically. Seconds later, the walls, floors and his children were being wiped down violently by their eight old, wet mops. Three seconds later, Ginny was coughing.

Bill performed a counter-spell and rolled his eyes as all the mops stopped and dropped to the now pristine floor.

"Mum's back from the hospital?" Charlie asked, soaking wet from disgusting mop water. He didn't seem to mind because Arthur was sure that he had to deal with more unpleasant things. "What happened? Is her heart okay?"

"They said that she has too much thyroid hormone in her blood," Arthur explained, even though he wasn't exactly 100% sure what he was explaining to begin with. He was sure you needed a degree just to understand the rubbish that spewed out of that bloke's mouth. "And that's what's been making her feel anxious, so they have her some potions to reduce the amount that her body makes. She has an appointment in a week. But _um_ , he said something about a thyroid storm… I'm sure he doesn't mean that Molly is in risk of having it, and it's rare but it doesn't sound pleasant."

Arthur sighed deeply, rubbing his neck. "Just don't let her do too much around the house. The healer said that she needs to reduce the amount of stress that she has in her life," he instructed before they asked him what in Merlin's name that was. He was going to go down to the library to check out his first book in years just to read up about it. "And your mother is upset with me, so try not to mention me at all when you go and talk to her."

Bill caught up on that. "You had a fight?" he asked. "Merlin, what about this time? Did you work overtime?"

"What else would it be about? She couldn't stop talking to me about Percy," Arthur mumbled. He swallowed the last part of his sandwich, feeling unfulfilled but it wasn't food that he was hunting for. "She's under the impression that there's something wrong with him."

When he saw the expressions on their faces, he realised that everyone agreed with her.

"Impression?" Ron looked at him like he was mental. "I saw the git once since he apologised when I was visiting you in the office, and _I_ almost feel bad for him. He looks miserable, like his soul has been sucked out by a Dementor."

"He looks better now," Arthur replied, putting his plate in the sink. Then he decided to clean it so Molly wouldn't have to. "He's just came back from a holiday… just over five days ago!"

Charlie shook his head. "Bill and I saw him in Diagon Alley a few days back, and I hardly even recognised him, Dad," he didn't even meet Arthur's eyes when he talked. "He nearly broke down whilst he was fighting with the cashier about shoe prices!"

"Well, I…" Arthur tried to think about how Percy looked like when he left this morning. "I think he's alright."

He didn't like it when Bill and Charlie were looking at each other like they couldn't believe that.

"I think he's finally gone mad," Charlie shook his head. "He has so much on his mind that I had to call out his name about five times before he even noticed I was there—and then he just walked past me after acknowledging me like-like he's done his duty... Merlin, you'd think that he'd have a lot more to say to me! We haven't talked in five years!"

"That's okay with you?" Arthur was apparently in a minority. "That he acts like you're just in the way of his life?"

"It would've pissed me off normally," Charlie admitted. "But not right then. I'm worried about him and he won't answer any of my owls. I think he doesn't answer anything that isn't labelled _URGENT_ or _SOMEONE'S GONNA DIE IF YOU DON'T READ THIS._ He hasn't been answering any of mum's owls either... the way he's going on, he's going to give himself a heart attack!"

Arthur felt like he'd just been walloped because he thought that Molly was overexaggerating.

"Mum thinks you've been giving him too much work," Ginny thought that was ridiculous from the sound of her snort. "But he's never looked like that. Not even when he was studying for his O.W.L's and functioning on no sleep and the whole selection of Honeyduke's sugariest, most artery-clogging biscuits for energy. Is... is there something going on?"

"No," Arthur said, but then shut his eyes. "I mean… not that I can…well, _I_ don't know."

"But you work with him," Ron pointed out. "I mean, wouldn't you know if there was something making him go barking mad? Because I've seen how he acts now, and I've seen more relaxed Quidditch players during the Cup."

"Well, um… things are difficult. You know how your brother is like," was Arthur's reply. "He's not talking to me."

"That's a shame," Bill said, rubbing his neck. "Maybe we'll see him tonight. I'll talk to him about it. There's obviously something that's really been giving him a lot of grief since we resolved everything and we should helping him out. He doesn't have to suffer through whatever he's going alone."

Arthur nodded his head. "Yes, well… you're right." He was so awkward. It was like he wasn't their father."I suppose."

Percy wasn't overworked with the work that he had to do, was he? He did complain about it, but Percy always complained. Yes, maybe Arthur did sometimes sneak in an extra report or two that he could barely decipher—and all the Elvish ones since Percy could speak it fluently. But he didn't think that he was _overworking_ Percy. Besides, he got everything done by the time that Arthur came into the office. His work definitely didn't suffer. There wasn't a single spelling mistake on there. This morning, he was talking to Daphne Greengrass, sharing biscuits and tea together.

Which apparently he ate a lot of. Biscuits that was. You'd think he'd have expanded his palate since he was five but…

Sure, Arthur knew that Percy may have noticed he looked a little pale or tired at times, but he had children keeping him up at night too! It was perfectly natural for him to be tired some days.

Maybe him sleeping on the job wasn't a sign of him being complacent. Maybe he really was that exhausted? Arthur didn't like the idea that he'd been reading this all long. He knew that maybe a vindictive part of him showed up in the first few days that he was the Minister and he purposely gave Percy an unfathomable amount of work, but since they'd sorted it out after, Arthur didn't think that he was giving him anything that was that difficult to manage.

Besides, he had an assistant! Daphne also complained about the workload, but she wasn't used to working as much…

It couldn't be the workload, was it? Percy was just... being Percy and his assistant probably needed to learn how to actually assist him. That was all it was, right?

At around seven in the evening, Molly was dressed and ready to go to the Ministry Ball even though he told her many times that she should stay at home. She just came back from the hospital for Merlin's sake, but she refused. Ron and Ginny looked wonderful in their new dress robes, but Charlie looked like he was trying on a second year's robes. His muscles had gotten so much bigger that he could barely fit into his clothes. Bill looked about as brooding as always, and well, Arthur supposed that his hair was nicer than the thing that Ginny decided was good enough to go out in.

They were in the Ministry Ball by eight, even though Arthur continued to insist that Molly didn't have to come.

"Love, it's not a mandatory event," Arthur tried to tell her. Besides, Percy was going to be there, and he didn't want to have this conversation again. He didn't want to think that maybe his family was right. "You don't have to—"

"Do you know how much I paid for these robes?" Molly asked, gesturing towards her beautiful pink robes. But of course, nowhere near as beautiful as the woman who was wearing it, even if she was furious at him.

"Do you know if Percy is going to bring Molly and Lucy too?" she looked endeared at the prospect of seeing them.

"Mum wants to know if we can shower them with gifts yet," Charlie smirked, and Arthur wondered why he didn't think about that. Godric, he sometimes forgot that Percy's children were his grandchildren too. He really had detached himself from Percy's life. They worked in the same office from nine to five every day, and Arthur didn't even know what Percy ate for lunch until his wife told him that he thought that a packet of chocolate biscuits was an actual meal. "Fred and George want to bring them some things that would probably give poor Perce an aneurysm."

 _Are you sure you remember that Percy's your son?_ Molly's voice echoed in his head. He didn't think he'd forgotten, but the fact that he was eager to help Bill out with a pregnant Fleur but showed no interest in Molly and Lucy was appalling.

Arthur was going to make this right tonight. He was going to have a talk with Percy about this. Sort this out for good.

"Well…" Arthur felt nervous now, because he should've asked, shouldn't he? They were his grandchildren after all. He wished he didn't have to attend this stupid thing to begin with, so that they could all have a nice planned roast together. They were supposed to have an early roast before going off to the dinner party because of Molly being in the hospital, so he hadn't even eaten lunch. He was starving. "Um… I didn't really ask him, but I think he will."

Molly didn't look pleased. "You don't know if your own grandchildren are coming to your party?" she asked.

"Um—well, I…it didn't…no," Arthur rubbed his neck, not sure what the right thing to say was. He was already sweating through his clothes, as he watched Molly pick up her purse and _hmph_ at him. "But I'm sure they'll be there."

This was going to be a wonderful evening. He was sure that he was going to end up asleep on the couch tonight.

Once they all apparated to the Ministry Ball, he had the most fakest smile plastered on his face for the evening. Fred and George had already gotten there, in their really old suits and were eating chocolate buttons in a formal event.

He greeted all the department heads. He spent his whole evening kissing so much arse that he was disgusted that he was kissing Molly with the same mouth—well, not tonight but well, generally.

Arthur had kept his eyes peered around for Percy, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Molly wasn't talking to him, and the rest of his children couldn't help with her awful mood. In fact, after fifteen minutes of them walking around mingling with all the other guests, even they seemed to be in a horrific mood. They obviously didn't envision their night being like this.

"This is the worst," Fred said to George, not knowing Arthur could hear. "It's like Dad is under the Imperius."

Arthur hated that their sons thought of him like that. He didn't know how else to manoeuvre through these events.

"It'll get better when we eat something," Charlie squirmed uncomfortably in his robes. "Those little bread things are definitely not enough to fill me up." He looked over to see Bill had just bought Fleur. "And definitely not Fleur."

"Zis is 'orrible," Fleur said. Well, she wasn't wrong. "I'm going to go 'ome after dinner."

"If we ever get to eat," Bill mumbled, squeezing Fleur's hair. She looked gorgeous. "Who organised all this?"

Arthur didn't want to say that Percy was in charge of all of this. "Um… well, it's a joint effort." He looked around, feeling a little exposed. He usually had Percy by his side doing all this awkward talk for him. In fact, where _was_ Percy?

He could probably sort this whole thing out if he was here. The whole thing was as boring as a History of Magic class.

Half an hour later, Arthur found Daphne Greengrass in dark blue dress robes with glittering gems and a silver phoenix on the back. Merlin, you'd think that she was getting married, especially when she had caked on enough foundation to look like white chocolate icing. She was sipping on a glass of wine. She also looked like she didn't want to be there.

"Miss Greengrass?" Arthur walked to her the second that he'd spotted her. "Do… do you know where Percy is?"

Daphne looked like she just about had it with him too. "Percy? Why? You need him to debrief you about all the departments that you have absolutely no clue about? Maybe you need him to deliver all the speeches that you should've been preparing instead of him?" she asked. Arthur flinched but he supposed that he deserved that one. "I can escort you if you want. I have prepared for this occasion… well, I've _mostly_ prepared for this occasion."

Arthur translated that in his had: she had no clue what was going on, but she was willing to give it a shot.

Molly wandered over to them, holding a glass of champagne. "What are you doing here, Arthur?" she asked.

"Should you be having champagne with the potions that the healers gave you?" Arthur couldn't believe he didn't ask them about that, knowing they were going to a party tonight.

She was unhappy about everything he did that evening. To the fake laughs that he had with each department head, and sharing the the worst jokes with some supervisors—some of them very disgusting mind you. This whole evening was a disaster. Everyone wanted to go home and was starving because these canapes they were serving couldn't fill up an flobberworm. Now, he was talking to one of the prettiest girls in the whole of the Ministry. He was sure that that didn't look too great to Molly.

"I can drink whatever I want Arthur," She eyed Daphne, up and down. "Of all the things that you could do to me!"

"Molly, it's not what it looks like!" Arthur said, but Daphne wasn't really helping his case. She was glaring at him.

"Mum, I doubt that Dad was chatting her up," Bill decided to interject, eating his millionth salmon canape.

His sons and Ginny were following him around, absolutely bored out of their minds. The twins looked like they were looking for a way to make something exciting happen, but everything was so dull that even they didn't have any ideas.

"Besides, she could do better," George smirked over at her and inched closer to her. "George Weasley. I'm the true master and genius behind Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. My twin, Fred, just works there."

"You wish," Fred mumbled and then yawned into his champagne glass. "Let's at least go to the—"

"What else would you be doing here?" Molly asked him in an accusatory manner. "Does she actually work here?"

"Excuse me?" Daphne looked like she wanted to break that champagne glass over Molly's head. "Not only do I work here, but I'm Percy's assistant! My mum and I been living with him since my flat burned down. I probably know more about him than his father does that's for sure. And I know his children better than any of you do!"

Arthur unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He was sweating so much that he was wondering if his thyroid levels were normal. "I was just asking her about Percy since I haven't seen him tonight."

"He's not coming. I'm here to represent him instead. This whole party is absolutely terrible because he's not here to orchestrate every detail, Mr Weasley and I'm sure you know that," Daphne gestured to the stacks of papers in her hands, which were battered in red. She hadn't bothered redoing them after Percy looked over them. "But believe it or not, he has other things to do than come here and be degraded for the evening. Besides, it isn't even his job but you just can't help but throw everyone else's work on top of all the stuff he already has to do, can you, Mr Weasley?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny looked at Arthur. Their prior conversation flashed into both of their minds.

"Well, I hope to see Percy tomorrow morning," Arthur said before Daphne could explain. He didn't want them to hear it from Daphne Greengrass. She wouldn't put him in a nice light. "You'll let him know that I was looking for him, won't you? And that I hope that he's—you know, sleeping since he's been a little…um…"

"Stressed?" Daphne raising an eyebrow. "Sleep-deprived? Overworked? Completely and utterly mad?"

Arthur nodded his head frantically. "Yes, exactly!" the wine out of his glass was spilling everywhere. "Stressed."

Daphne was playing with the olive in her glass. "Yes, well, maybe he wouldn't be so bloody stressed if he could go home before two in the morning because of the amount of work that you give him!"

Arthur's face started to flush because he didn't know how to explain this. Did it make any sense for him to say that he didn't know that Percy had that much work when he was the one that assigned it in the first place?

"Maybe he wouldn't be so stressed if he didn't have to spend his morning apparating between here and his flat just so he feels like he actually sees his own children during the day because he knows that he's not going to be able to see them at night," Daphne went on and on and on. "Do you know that Molly and Lucy actually try to stay awake and wait up for him? And he can't do a bloody thing about it because he has to have money to pay for his flat, and their food and clothes. I wish he'd just quit but he doesn't know what else he wants to do. And he's stuck because of you."

Molly looked at Arthur in that way that made his heart stop. "Arthur!" oh Godric, this was not going to be good.

"Is it really that bad?" Bill looked at Arthur in disbelief.

"I didn't think I gave him all that much work!" Arthur had sweat trickling down his face. "This is all news to me too! I just thought that he was complaining because he… you know how he's like with me. He doesn't respect anything I do, and I just thought that he was…I thought that…" he didn't know that it was that bad.

Charlie just shrugged. "Dad, what are you talking about?" he said. " _You're_ the one that doesn't respect him if you're so out of it that you don't notice how much work you'd been giving him. No wonder you're always fighting."

"It's nothing that can't be fixed, alright?" Arthur said, waving his hands up. "I can give him a holiday! I can give him less work. I can force him to take more breaks. I can—"

"That's not the point, Arthur! You don't understand what we're trying to say because you don't want to accept that you're wrong this time," Molly said to him, sighing deeply. She sounded like she'd really had it with him today. "The point is the fact that you didn't know what was going on with Percy all this time! He's working in your department! No, I know that he's not going to die off in a corridor at twenty-three, but aren't you the least bit ashamed that his assistant knows more about him than you do? You're his _father_ for Merlin's sake, not just his employer."

"Molly, love, you really shouldn't be under this much stress," Arthur rubbed her shoulder. "Your thyroid level!"

 _"DAPHNE!"_ little Molly walked over to them, clad in purple robes. Lucy was following her and Clark was lagging behind. They were eating cupcakes with multicoloured frosting. "Your dress robes are so pretty!"

"What are you doing here?" Daphne paled dramatically. "Where's Percy if…?"

Before she could say another word, they all looked up across the bar and saw Percy Weasley hit Christopher Fearn.

The whole party suddenly stopped, and people were staring at them with big eyes.

Arthur couldn't believe that his son just hit him. Merlin, Fearn could probably get him arrested for assault in seconds. From what little Arthur knew, he got someone put in Azkaban last year.

Half his family made up the Wizengamot for Merlin's sake. And Percy consciously _chose_ to punch him. He really had gone crazy. Arthur was starting to believe that. He'd gone so crazy that he thought that it was a good idea to punch Fearn. Arthur felt a little woozy. Christopher was clutching his cheek, looking at Percy with so much contempt.

A woman walked over to Christopher. "Are you alright, Mr Fearn?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine, you old snake!" shrieked Christopher loud enough for his voice to echo off the walls. At least Arthur had an entertaining party now, right? He thought with a sinking feeling in his chest. Merlin, what was going on here? "I was just attacked by a raging alcoholic that has a vendetta against me because I told him that I'm taking my children back from him. Children that have wrongfully been kept from me because _his_ wife had an issue with me!"

"Oh, sod off!" Percy was drunk. Arthur knew this even from across the room. He wasn't walking straight.

Arthur's hands felt cold and clammy. He couldn't say that he was completely surprised. From the story that Percy told him, there was a seven-month period between him getting together with Audrey and her telling him that she was pregnant. It wouldn't have shocked him at all if she had slept with another man during that time. But the fact that it actually happened let a steely feeling form in his stomach. Arthur tried to think of how it would feel like if he had a custody issue with any of his children, but he couldn't fathom what it would be like.

He didn't want to imagine the big hole in his chest that would be there if he lost any of them… Percy included, so why was he taking all of this for granted?

"You think it matters to me what that paternity test says? Because I raised them," Percy's hands shook uncontrollably. He looked unwell. "There's nobody in the world that could love them like I could. I promise you that."

Christopher laughed violently, shaking his head at him. "You think you can take care of anyone?" he asked hotly. "You can't even take care of yourself! Look at you, you look like you're supposed to be squared off some place, locked up before you hurt someone. And you know what, Percival? I reviewed your records today! Six years of attending alcoholic anonymous meetings every now and then without a single month of abstinence? Seriously?"

Percy's face went white. "That doesn't mean anything," he said, crossing his arms on his chest. "I'm doing my best."

"I should just take them now without having to take this to court! Who would willingly leave a pair of unsuspecting five-year-olds with an known and documented alcoholic?" Christopher smirked at him in absolute delight. "Do you think that things are going to go into your favour? Do you really think that there's a person in this world that believes you? You don't even believe yourself. Nobody even likes you—"

"Don't you dare talk to him like that," Arthur surprised himself when he spoke up.

Christopher wasn't even the least bit threatened. "Oh, Mr Minister, are you afraid I'll break your dry cleaner's spirit?"

Arthur flushed when he realised how bad that sounded. Yes, he used Percy as his dry cleaner a few times. He didn't realise that the rest of the Ministry knew about it too. What could he do? His washing machine broke, and Arthur wasn't going to spend money on getting his clothes clean and pristine. "It's not like that. I…"

Merlin, he'd really been overdoing it if the Muggle Liaison office knew that Percy did his dry cleaning sometimes.

Christopher shook his head, laughing. "And didn't you tell the head of my department that if he wasn't your son, you probably wouldn't fired him because of how complacent and negligent he could be? You just asked him for that one report…"

He didn't mean it! Arthur just shook his head vehemently, only to meet Percy's eyes.

" _ONE_ report?" Percy was outraged. "What could you possibly want from me _NOW?"_

"I didn't mean it like that," Arthur honestly said, and he meant it. He walked a little closer to him. "Percy—"

"Do you have any idea how much I hate this building? The only thing I've ever wanted to do, and you've made me hate every single second of it!" Percy yelled. He looked genuinely crazy as he waved around his fists.

"Percy, your daughters…" Arthur tried to remind him, because they were staring at him, looking a little scared.

"Oh, and I was stupid enough to apologise to _YOU!"_ Percy screamed. "I hate you. I don't regret what I've said about you. If it isn't for me, this whole building would collapse. I don't have to take care of two children. I have three fucking children to manage and I trust the five-year-olds more than I could ever trust you. Don't you dare ever talk to me ever again because I quit. _I quit I quit I quit_ and I'm never coming back here not ever again. I don't care if the whole wizarding world caves in tomorrow. I'm sick of being beneath you. I'm sick of you and I hate you."

Arthur inched closer to Percy, and the second that he came close to him, he realised that Percy was seriously feverish.

Not just a little, but he was hot and just being close to him made him realise just how ill he looked like. He was wearing gigantic robes, but Arthur suddenly realised his cheeks were sunken in and he looked like he was about to collapse. Godric, there was no way he looked like this in the morning, did he? Arthur just saw him this morning.

"I'm sorry, sweethearts," Percy crouched down to his daughters' levels, because they had gone white. "I'm so sorry," he said, rubbing Lucy's back and then running his hand through Molly's hair. "I didn't want to frighten you."

"Perce," Arthur's voice was soft. "I didn't mean it like that. I…" he said, placing his hand on Percy's shoulder.

"Leave me alone, Arthur," Percy's voice was quiet. He looked eerily pale and he was shaking uncontrollably. He was sweating through his robes even worse than Arthur was. "We don't have to talk anymore. Not ever. And you don't have to worry about me ever coming back to that house."

He wrapped his arms around his daughters, burying his head into Lucy's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said.

"We're okay," Lucy said, but she didn't sound like she really was okay. "Dad, are you okay?"

Godric, even the little ones were worried about him. "I'm sorry," was all that Percy kept on repeating, shaking his head. "I'm alright, Lucy. I'm just fine," he sounded even less fine the more he said it.

"Percy?" Arthur asked softly, watching practically everyone in the Ministry Ball surround him. He didn't even know what Molly, or his children must be thinking. He didn't want to think what Percy's daughters must be going through. What a horrible night. Percy looked up at him with tired-looking red-rimmed bright blue eyes. "Percy, listen to me…"

"Don't you dare talk to me ever again," Percy looked at him with a look that could probably kill.

"Dad, you feel hot," his daughter, Molly, looked worried. Because yes, he didn't just feel hot. He was scorching.

"Percy, you need to go to a healer," Arthur said, shaking his head. He didn't mean a psychiatric one but if he kept acting this mad, then maybe that really was going to happen. "Even your daughters can see there's something wrong with you. You're really sick, Percy. You have a sky-high fever and I don't know what's going on but…"

"I'm fine," Percy shook his head. "I'm fine." Like he wasn't sweating through his clothes. It was freezing in here.

"Is someone going to come and take us away?" Lucy finally asked. Her voice was so soft. She was so sweet, so innocent.

"It's okay, my little pixie puff. Nobody's going to take you away from me," Percy ran his hand through her hair too. His hand was pouring sweat.

He stood up. When Bill tried to inch closer to him, Percy pushed him away and then turned to walk away. He stopped in the middle of the atrium, all the blood draining from his face as he clutched his chest with his hand.

Charlie walked over to him, and then tentatively placed a hand on his arm. "Percy?"

Percy shook his head in disbelief. His emotions had been all over the place this evening and Arthur didn't want to tell him that if he continued acting like that, then they really were going to take away his children. But that thought melted away the second that Percy blacked out in the middle of the atrium.


	29. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 3

_for those of you that believed that Percy had a heart attack, you are right. for those of you that believed that Percy had a thyroid storm, you are also correct... let's just say that Percy is going to have a lot of health related problems in the next few chapters! it's going to be great... and full of angst, of course.  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Twenty-Nine: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 3

* * *

When Percy came into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, George was under the impression that that hippogriff-sized tension between them would resolve with time. After all, Percy _did_ already apologise. He was sorry… right?

George didn't know why he thought they'd work it out when a whole war couldn't get them to talk to each other.

On the night of the Ministry Ball, he and Fred arrived as late as possible. Even then, they'd been bored out of their minds from the second they got there. They were wearing the itchiest and only pair of almost-decent dress robes that they both owned. The expensive stilton that the house-elves were serving with crackers looked a little like something that he had found in the bottom of a one of his old, manky socks once. Their father's arse-kissing was somehow even more disturbing than seeing a Dementor on Hogwarts grounds. But most of all, George was shocked that Percy hadn't bothered turning up. If there was one thing that pathetic git adored, it was fancy dinner parties that were faker than the broomstick he'd gotten Fred for Christmas a year ago. Fred was still convinced it was a real Cleansweep.

But then the night did take a more exciting turn, but not in the turning-someone-into-an-inflating-balloon sort of way.

Percy _did_ turn up, and then clocked some redheaded bloke in the face… in front of the whole Ministry!

Christopher Fearn, apparently someone from Muggle Liaison, was shrieking loud enough for the walls to vibrate. George was surprised that Percy could punch anyone hard enough for him to actually be hurt. "I was just attacked by a raging alcoholic that has a vendetta against me because I told him that I'm taking my children back from him," Christopher screamed. "Children that have wrongfully been kept from me because _his_ wife had an issue with me!"

"His wife managed to sleep with the only other redhead in the Ministry?" Fred whistled. "Lucky bloke."

George was sure that Percy was the antidote to a bucket of Felix Felicis. What kind of luck did that prat even have?

But what a turnout for the books, huh? Not that George read any books anyway. But he didn't know that Percy's daughters weren't his. A feeling of dread filled George's stomach, like he'd just eaten lead, rocks or that block of stilton cheese they'd been passing around the atrium just moments before. Percy looked even worse than mum did when he left the Burrow. He looked like his whole had been shattered into pieces. Fred made the same face that morning when George admitted that he'd been filing in their sugar containers with Wizarding Wally's artificial sweeteners. And noticing how wrecked Percy was, George was sure that he had probably just found out that his daughters weren't his.

"Wait, did Fearn call Percy a raging alcoholic?" George hadn't even seen Percy drunk. He didn't want to believe it.

"Oh, sod off!" until now that was... Percy was absolutely trashed. He swayed with about as much elegance as a troll.

"He never told us that," Fred shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't even know he'd ever tried to drink before."

"Well, he couldn't have, could he?" George spat out, suddenly seeing Percy in a new light. He was disturbed by what he knew. "How could he tell us he had a problem _and_ that he was doing fine, raising two little girls on his own?"

Fred didn't reply to this, but he didn't miss the contempt in George's voice. "George, he—"

"He shouldn't have kept them," George whispered. How could he be so bloody reckless? "Not if he's emptying out The Leaky Cauldron every night. He should've told mum about them or thrown them in the orphanage."

"What do you mean he should've thrown them in the orphanage? Mum would've never forgiven him if he did that. They're his daughters, George. How could he tell mum after the fight that Percy and dad had?" Fred tried to reason with him. "I can't imagine that he's a danger to anyone but maybe a packet of biscuits at three in the morning."

"But Perce isn't the dad… haven't you been listening?" George snorted. "That's what this whole fight is about."

"But at the time he thought that he was," Fred explained. "Do you really think Percy's capable of hurting them?"

George couldn't believe Fred. "He just punched that bloke!" he pointed out. "He's plenty capable."

"That guy just told threatened to take his daughters from him. Why shouldn't he punch him?" Fred sounded pissed, making George roll his eyes. Usually, George was the compassionate one, but he just felt bad for those poor girls. Percy was someone's father. He didn't deserve Fred's sympathy. "Godric, Georgie, don't you remember that used to take care of us when we were growing up? He was practically born to tell little kids what they're supposed to think. Mum trusted him to take care of us when he was five."

George sighed. "Well, he wasn't getting blackout drunk at five!" he argued.

"How do you know if he gets blackout drunk?" Fred challenged. "We didn't even know he had a problem up until now! He's pretty good at hiding to everyone else. Do you think he makes his problems obvious to his children?"

"He shouldn't be taking care of anyone if he couldn't take care of his bloody self. Look at how embarrassed he is! He doesn't want anyone to know that he has such a problem. He's not even denying that it's a huge deal," George shook his head in disbelief. "He knows he's mucked up, Freddy. He knows."

"Well, dad shouldn't be overworking him. Did you notice how everyone but mum's already forgiven dad about it?" Fred mumbled softly. That was a reach and they both knew it. "If we're not on Perce's side, who else is going to be?"

"Do you honestly think Percy's overworked? Are you really feeling sorry for poor little Percy because nobody's on his side? Do you know why nobody's on his side? Because he's wrong," George asked. Bill caught them up with the row they'd had before they'd left for the Ministry Ball tonight and they'd been divided since the beginning of the night. "And even if he is, who cares, Freddy? Being overworked isn't an excuse to get drunk around five-year-old girls."

Fred looked away. "You saw how he looks like when he came into the shop," he said. "You agreed with me that dad was overdoing it with him. You were livid that dad let him look like that! So now that he's an alcoholic, dad can treat him however he wants to even if it's wrong? Does he cease being our brother now that he has a problem?"

"That's not what I said, Freddy and you know it," George thought he was a broken record. He never said that Percy wasn't their brother! He had children. How could Fred be okay with him being around them if he had a serious problem that even he didn't like to admit to? "Is this where we're both at?"

"I guess this is where we're both at," Fred scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you're wrong. You'll see."

As Fred and George were fighting, Percy and Christopher were still fighting. George hadn't been paying attention to what they'd been saying up until Christopher started really yelling. He was absolutely fuming now.

"I should just take them now without having to take this to court! Who would willingly leave a pair of unsuspecting five-year-olds with a known and documented alcoholic? It's not like you're sober right now either," Christopher was smirking like Gilderoy Lockhart probably did when he discovered that he was on the front of another _Witch Weekly_ magazine issue. "Do you think that things are going to go into your favour? Do you really think that there's a person in this world that believes you? You don't even believe yourself. Nobody even likes you—"

"Don't you dare talk to him like that," Arthur suddenly decided to interject. George shuddered. This was not good.

Christopher actually talked back to the Minister. "Oh, Mr Minister, are you afraid I'll break your dry cleaner's spirit?"

"Dry cleaner?" Fred mumbled under his breath. George saw Arthur flush until he was as red as his receding hairline.

What did he mean by—? George flushed too because he realised that Percy had been doing their laundry, and apparently, the rest of the Ministry knew about it. Godric, how embarrassing. He had been wondering how mum had gotten that stain out of his favourite broomstick underpants out. "It's not like that," Arthur weakly argued. I…"

"You still don't think that dad is using Percy?" Fred asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sure," George didn't want to admit he was wrong. Why was Percy doing their laundry to start with...?

George was about to side with Fred, but then he heard Christopher laugh. "And didn't you tell the head of my department that if he wasn't your son, you probably would've fired him because of how complacent he could be? You just asked him for that one report…" that was when the whole evening went to shit.

"Complacent?" George laughed vacantly. The smug bastard wouldn't allow himself the luxury to be—

What George didn't expect was Percy to lose it. " _ONE_ report?" he hadn't heard Percy this angry since they'd started transfiguring his Head Boy badge to Big Head Boy. "What _one_ report could you possibly want from me?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Arthur looked as peaked as Remus was after a full moon. "Percy—"

"Do you have any idea how much I hate this building? The only thing I've ever wanted to do, and you've made me hate every single second of it!" Percy was yelling so loudly that it was making George shiver. Percy was as angry as Molly had been when she'd discovered that they'd left Hogwarts to open up their joke shop.

"Percy, your daughters…" Arthur tried to remind him, and George felt his heart stop. That git didn't care, did he? He didn't care that he was terrifying his little girls just so he could make a point about how mistreated he was?

"How bloody dare he?" George felt bad for his tiny nieces. "He's going to bloody traumatise those poor little girls."

"He's going to stop now," Fred obviously wanted so hard to believe that their brother wasn't a prat. "You'll-you'll…"

"Oh, and I was stupid enough to apologise to _YOU!"_ Percy looked absolutely mad. "I hate you. I don't regret what I've said about you. If it isn't for me, this whole building would collapse. I don't have to take care of two children. I have three fucking children to manage and I trust the five-year-olds more than I could ever trust you. Don't you dare ever talk to me ever again because I quit. _I quit I quit I quit_ and I'm never coming back here not ever again. I don't care if the whole wizarding world caves in tomorrow. I'm sick of being underneath you. I'm sick of you and I hate you."

Fred was white as a sheet and George didn't even enjoy the fact that he'd been right. Their poor dad was stunned.

"I'm sorry, sweethearts," Percy walked to his daughters and George wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be anywhere near them. He was a horrible father. Who had a complete breakdown in front of his children for Merlin's sake? But George's voice was stuck in his throat because he couldn't believe how selfish the git actually was. "I'm so sorry," his voice was nice and soft. Arsehole. "I didn't want to frighten you." _Really? Did you really not want to frighten them?_

"Perce," their dad sounded broken. "I didn't mean it like that. I…" what was he apologising for?

"Leave me alone, Arthur," when Percy said that, George was furious. Percy had absolutely no respect for his father. "We don't have to talk anymore. Not ever. And you don't have to worry about me ever coming back to that house."

That house! He said it like he had been living in Azkaban in his childhood. The absolute bastard.

He kept trying to cajole his daughters and the poor little things looked so scared. George wished that he would've run over there and clocked Percy for what he'd just done. He always knew that Percy was a little mental, but not enough to actually take someone else's children from them and insist that he was the one that was right.

"We're okay," Lucy didn't sound like she was okay. "Dad, are you okay?"

"Percy?" Arthur's voice was so soft, and he felt so bad for his dad. "Percy, listen to me…"

"Don't you dare talk to me ever again," Percy replied back. What was his bloody problem?

"Dad, you feel hot," little Molly said. George was floored. How were those poor little things living with him?

"Percy, you need to go to a healer," Arthur told him. George thought that locking him up in an asylum would be a seriously gracious act. "Even your daughters can see there's something wrong with you. You're really sick, Percy. You have a sky-high fever and I don't know what's going on but…" _What fever?_ How could their father even tell just by looking at someone that they had a 'sky-high fever'? His dad must be losing it too.

"I'm fine," Percy sounded even more mental the more he said it. "I'm fine."

"Is someone going to come and take us away?" Lucy asked. _Yes_ , George thought. _Yes, someone's going to take you away._

"It's okay, my little pixie puff. Nobody's going to take you away from me," Percy replied. George shuddered again.

Percy stood up. When Bill tried to inch closer to him, Percy pushed him away. What a git. He turned to leave but then stopped in the middle of the atrium, all the blood draining from his face as he clutched his chest with his hand. What was that? That cavity where his heart was supposed to be was pulsating in some semblance of possible pain? Because you didn't just debase your father publicly and then think that you could get away with it, right?

Charlie walked over to him, and then tentatively placed a hand on his arm. "Percy?"

And what was up with Charlie? He sounded almost like he felt bad for Percy. For what?

George didn't know why they bothered with the stupid git. George couldn't believe that Percy re-disowned them publicly because his father thought that all Percy did was sit on his arse all day long. Oh, and even more surprisingly, the git actually quit his job! George was absolutely livid. How dare that git humiliate their father like this? And he probably had another thing coming if they really thought that he was going to keep his daughters after that near-psychotic display he had in the middle of the biggest Ministry event of the year! They'd probably have the whole Wizengamot take them away and keep a good ten-kilometre distance between them at all times!

 _Good for them_ , George knew that there was no way anyone was letting Percy leave with Molly and Lucy.

Before George could tell him off, Percy suddenly managed to scare them even more off because he'd just passed out in the middle of the atrium. Ta-da! His final act to a miserable, horrific evening. Of course, Percy just had to collapse on the most important night of the year because he barely slept and survived on cheap chocolate biscuits for sustenance. George wouldn't be surprised if the last meal was the dinner that he'd had was that night he'd left the Burrow in 1995.

Did that sound like someone that was supposed to be a father? Percy could barely cope with himself. Who told him that he was well enough to raise them? George felt bad for them. They must be so mucked in the head because of him. And it wasn't necessarily Percy's fault that he was so mental to begin with, but they couldn't talk about how smart and self-aware he was one day and then talk about how he was completely out of touch the second day, could they?

George was sure that social services was going to take his children away from him whether he liked it or not. He was not stable enough to take care of anyone, and George was sure that he didn't even deserve them if he was going to be at the Ministry Ball, drinking his weight in alcohol whilst his two unsuspecting daughters just rummaged around in a building that was big enough to make the Hogwarts look like one of Woods' miniature Quidditch fields.

"Do you still think that he should be taking care of children?" George asked Fred, who stayed quiet.

"What is wrong with you?" Fred hissed at him. "Percy just fainted and all you care about is making a point?"

George was stunned. He couldn't even say anything about it because Fred was right. Was he so out of it that he didn't care about the fact that Percy had just collapsed? He stiffened slightly and then joined Fred and the rest of the family who had been circling around Percy's body. George reached over to hold little Molly's hand, who looked so quiet.

Lucy was crouched down on the ground, holding Percy's hand. _"DAD IS SO HOT! IS HE GONNA DIE?"_

George then reached over to hold Percy's shoulder and realised what Arthur had meant when he'd mentioned his fever. Percy did not just have a fever—it felt like he'd just been torched by dragon fire. He was boiling underneath his skin. George had never in his whole life felt anything like this before. How could Percy stand it?

"Hey," George shook Percy, trying to wake him up. "Perce?" he asked.

"Watch out for his big fat head," Fred said, because with the way that George was shaking him, Percy was probably going to end up with a massive headache when he woke up. George was going to need some ice to put his hands in.

 _"Hmm?"_ Percy slowly opened his eyes, and they looked almost yellow. Wow. That was quick. They just learned about him being an alcoholic and now, he had a problem with his liver too? Percy clutched his chest, whimpering like a crup that had just been kicked. He looked like he was in terrible pain. He was mumbling but George didn't understand.

"It's going to be alright, love," Molly looked terrified. He looked unwell. "You're going to be just fine…"

And as if in cue, the reporters came in and there were so many questions that George's head felt like exploding.

"Mr Minister, do you have to comment on the fight? Do you believe the junior assistant's statement about how he is obviously keeping the building together for you? Because there are rumours spreading that this is, in fact, true," one thin grey-haired bloke asked. "Does this mean that there will be a new junior assistant at the end of the week? When are you going to be opening your applications for this position?" George wondered how he trained his lung capacity for these questions because he was sure that this ninety-year-old bloke had been chain-smoking half a packet of cigarettes outside just an hour ago.

Before Arthur could even think of saying anything else, another one swooped. This one was also a bloke.

"And what about this custody issue? Should the public be concerned about this?" this one had muscles that rivalled Charlie. George felt the need to ask him why he bothered being a reporter when he could probably make a better Beater than that tiny thing on Appleby's reserve team. If you can't really manage or know what's going on in your department, Mr Minister, then how are you supposed to know what's going on in your own country? And—"

 _"DAD, JUST ANSWER THEM!"_ Fred shrieked, as Molly tried to talk to Percy as softly as she could.

"I… I can't," Arthur said in a whisper that only George could've heard because he was sat right next to him. He looked so overwhelmed. George then realised that this night had been horrible and was a waste because the rumours were true. Percy _did_ do his father's job for him—and Merlin knew how many jobs because he'd probably been the one that organised this thing to begin with. At least that would explain why Arthur spent half the night looking for Percy. It was why Daphne looked so cross with him when he approached her. Godric, what had their father done?

This explained why his father looked so guilty, holding onto Percy's arm for dear life as if he was expecting help.

All of this took about five minutes, but it felt like it had been ages since that happened. They didn't even plan on who was staying and who was going after that. Molly, Charlie, Ron and Ginny left with Percy because he was obviously too ill to be there. George was doubting now that Percy fainted because he'd skipped lunch. Daphne Greengrass soon followed suit, leaving behind her papers to the nearest intern that was looking for a great big break. That left George, his twin and Bill sat there because little Molly and Lucy who were obviously extremely anxious after what happened.

Christopher Fearn were barreling towards them. He had as much sympathy as Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You have something that belongs to me," Christopher told Bill, his eyes on Molly and Lucy. His voice then softened dramatically as he said, "Hello there, my sweet little mermaids. You might not know me now, but you'll know all about me soon enough… I'm-I'm your real father! Isn't that exciting? I'm sure that it comes as a shock to you now, but did you know that your mum, bless her soul, mixed Percy and me up? Silly girl…but now that everything's clear and in order, you could come and live with me. I live in this beautiful little cottage in Bristol and we could—"

"Mermaids are not pretty," Molly criticised immediately, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah!" Lucy agreed.

"You're a crook, do you know that, Fearn?" Bill asked, fuming at what Christopher had just said. "Did a Dementor suck your soul out? Did your house burn down during the war? Did poor ole' Snape scare you off during your Potions' classes? Because these poor little girls just saw their father collapse in the middle of a party, so I don't think they want to do anything with you—not now and not ever. Do you understand?" His hands were shaking from rage.

Christopher looked over at them. "I'm sure they could decide for themselves." As if they'd decide to go with him! "And who are you even to interject, William? You haven't even talked to your own brother in years," at this statement, Bill looked taken back. "Why should anyone care what you have to say about him or anyone else?"

"They're five years old," George felt the need to remind him. "And even then, they wouldn't choose you."

 _"GO AWAY!"_ Lucy confirmed George's earlier suspicions. "We don't care if you're our real father! I don't want you!"

"If you're our real father, then why did you wait so long to take us?" Molly asked with a tone to her voice that could make George shiver. The Sorting Hat was going to have trouble with this one. Lucy clung onto Molly as if Christopher was only taking one and leaving the other behind. "Weren't you looking for us? Or did you not care?"

Christopher looked surprised. Ha. That was because she was Percy's daughter, one hundred percent.

"I care very much. But it was so difficult to find you, my love," Christopher continued in that honey-sweet voice. "And wouldn't you much rather have a father that doesn't have a problem with drinking all that yucky Ogden's? I can't imagine the things that he could've said or must've done to you," George couldn't believe this bastard was really going to advertise to these poor little girls about Percy's drinking problem.

"You're the scum of the earth, Fearn," Bill said, his voice filled with rage. "Who talks to five-year-olds like that?"

Molly looked like she was seething. "My father doesn't have a problem with drinking!" she said, as clear as day. "He _thinks_ that he has a problem with drinking… even Penelope thought so too but everyone told him he doesn't!"

"Do you know Penny?" Lucy asked Fred, tugging at his dress robes. George's heart melted like chocolate in the centre of their mum's dense chocolate fudge cake because it was just so nice to see her talking to them. That meant that she had to trust them a little, right? "She's so pretty and nice. When I grow up, I want long beautiful hair like Penny's."

George smirked. "When Bill grows up, he wants long beautiful hair like Penny's too."

Bill ignored George's comment, and then looked down at Molly with soft eyes. "What do you mean, Molly?"

Molly cocked her head to the side. "Our dad does drinks, but he doesn't drink every day. And he doesn't drink enough to be like… like _that_ ," she gestured to where he was stood there before. George suddenly realised that the little girls were shocked because they'd never seen Percy drunk before. "That was the first time! He drinks a glass of wine by the fire sometimes. Maybe two, and three at a push but he's never ever never in my life gotten drunk."

"Yeah," Lucy said, shaking her head. "He was… not okay," she didn't have Molly's extensive vocabulary it seemed.

Bill just shook his head and then he laughed. "Godric, that stupid git thought he had a problem!"

"The pathetic prat probably isn't used to drinking," Fred said, slapping George's back. "Of course, he didn't have an actual problem! How could he have the time to get so blackout drunk when he's busy running the whole Ministry?"

"You know about that too?" George looked at Fred. "You heard dad say that he couldn't talk back to the reporters?"

"Merlin, he wasn't overworking him.," George felt sick to his stomach. "He'd turned Perce into his personal bloody house-elf," George realised. He was outraged at the fact that Percy and Arthur's relationship had gotten this bad. "Did you see how guilty he looked like when Perce was having a go at him? He didn't even talk back at him!"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Bill asked. "Do you really think that Dad would turn Percy into his personal slave?"

"Ask dad about it," George snorted. "I'm sure he'd be happy to dodge your question... then you'll see for yourself."

Fred nodded his head energetically; glad he and George were on the same page. And hey, George wasn't admitting he was wrong—he had all the wrong facts after all. In theory, if Percy _was_ a real alcoholic, he'd be right, you know!

But this was beginning to sound like the Percy that George knew. He probably really needed a drink more than a night or two and decided that he had a problem. George did feel awful for thinking that Percy had been a bona-fide alcoholic, especially after Fred and George really decided to tone down the more prankster parts of their personalities around Percy, just to give him a break. Maybe he drank a little more than he used to, but if his daughters had never seen him drunk before, it wasn't a big deal. Plus, if Percy really had such a problem, he wouldn't be so woefully efficient!

Then it dawned on George that Percy _felt_ like he had a serious problem. Merlin, how was it like to live like that? To live thinking that you had a serious problem and think you didn't deserve to be taking care of your daughters?

Godric, what kind of life was Percy living? How could he analyse every painstaking detail of his life like that?

"That's still under suspicion," Christopher said but even he seemed like he was wavering because everyone in this Merlin-forsaken building knew about Percy's neuroses. They could probably type up a list. "Whether or not he has a problem doesn't change anything. The whole Ministry thinks he has a problem. The Wizengamot heard that he has a problem and the git didn't even bother denying it. _HE_ even thinks that he has a problem! And don't forget about all the things that poor Percival managed to say about the Minister of Magic, and how unhinged he was…"

Bill clenched his jaw and he looked like he desperately wanted to punch Christopher too. George wished he would've.

Christopher looked at the girls. "If you don't come with me now, you'll just end up having to come with me later," he told them. "I promise you that," he said that in an almost threatening manner and George was stunned. Who even threatened five-year-old girls for Merlin's sake? What kind of a horrible creep was Christopher?

"What do you want with a bunch of five-year-old girls?" Fred asked, because obviously, he wasn't swimming in a sea of compassion. He didn't look like the kind of bloke that would do them right and it just left Fred feeling ill. "I don't buy the story that they're your _precious daughters_ and you've been missing out on their life! Even they thinks it's weird that you've not even bothered looking for them until someone told you about them."

"We don't want to go with you," Lucy said, sticking her tongue out. "I want to see my dad."

Percy being in the hospital seemed like a distant thought. When George realised how poorly he'd been when he'd passed out, he suddenly felt very anxious. He wanted to go to the hospital so badly, but he couldn't just then because he just saw the whole of the Wizengamot walk towards them and George felt a steely feeling in his stomach.

"Merlin… Perce," Bill said, and George closed his eyes as he realised the cold harsh reality before them.

"They have to sort this out now," Christopher said, snorting. "It'll be front page on The Daily Prophet, and who doesn't want a nice outcome at the end? Do you know what Percy's end is going to sound like?" George was white in the face, because that 'nice' outcome was a lie. It was the kind of thing that sounded great on paper. And George felt tears blurring into his eyes because he already knew the outcome at the end of this. There were reporters everywhere trying to get to talk to them, and the Wizengamot just invited more. They were questions flying everywhere.

George wanted Percy to answer them. He could understand why Arthur needed him so badly.

Bill just swallowed the lump in his throat, as he felt Molly and Lucy cling onto each other for dear life. "It's alright," he tried to tell them, and he was about as convincing as Ron was when he said that he, Harry and Hermione weren't up to anything. "It's going to be just fine," his voice was unsteady. The poor things were crying.

"They're not giving him a real trial," Fred whispered to George. "They don't want this to stay longer in the press than it has to. It's already giving them a bad name, and they could assemble a jury in seconds." There was some of the most influential people already here, and George was feeling anxious and frightened. They saw Molly and Lucy as in danger, as if they were coming home to a bloke that was hurting them. As if they were too afraid to speak out.

On top of that, their father was the Minister of Magic and he couldn't do a single bloody thing for Percy.

How could he? After all those things that Percy publicly said to him? There would be no way that he could get involved here without the inevitable political backlash. Percy had lost his job. He'd lost any kind of hold he'd ever have on the Ministry, and he'd lost his daughters all in the span of a single night.

And Godric Gryffindor himself only knew what was happening in the hospital right now as they spoke!

George felt like he wanted to cry too. He could see the headlines now: _FATHER REUNITED WITH TWIN DAUGHTERS AFTER WIZENGAMOT DECISION. UNHINGED, ALCOHOLIC JUNIOR MINISTER OF MAGIC MORE SINISTER THAN DEATH EATER_. They would write words about how he'd had an altercation with his father. By the end of tonight, George Weasley was sure that Percy's life was never going to be the same again.


	30. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 4

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 4

* * *

Three hours later, George felt hollow on the inside. He couldn't believe that they thought that Percy was genuinely a danger to his own daughters. They believed this case to be 'critical' and in need of urgent decision by the hands of the Wizengamot. What a way to say that they weren't about to sit through a trial because they didn't want this issue to be extended any further by the press. These were girls that he'd raised by himself since he was eighteen. He lost them because of one night where he was in a right state. And he wasn't the only one that felt like that… Molly and Lucy had practically been kicking and screaming by the time that Christopher had gotten his filthy little hands on them!

 _"OW!"_ Christopher said before he left. George smirked because he realised that Lucy had bit him.

Bill, Fred and George did not want to go to the hospital. They didn't want to look at Percy and tell him to his face that Christopher took his daughters away off to a shack in Bristol. George didn't think he could bear it.

Never in his life did he think he'd have to come to this outcome because the second that they'd gotten to the hospital, they found their family in the canteen, quiet. They looked like they were mourning Percy. Arthur was stood there looking in complete disbelief at what happened. Ron and Ginny looked even worse than they'd did straight after the war was over and done with. Charlie looked like he was back in his first year. Daphne was quiet and wearing a coat that Bill somehow knew had been Percy's. She was holding a gigantic bag of things in her hand. George wondered if she thought that Percy was going to be staying at the Broomsticks Inn instead of a hospital cot by the looks of things.

"He took them… Molly and Lucy. He took them!" Bill obviously didn't seem to realise the graveness of the situation. "Fearn managed to sway everyone about them. He'd practically convinced everyone under the sun that Percy is a dangerous menace. Poor Perce should be lucky that he wasn't getting the kiss at the end of that…"

Fred opened his mouth to say something but then heard a sob eliciting from Molly's mouth. George paled.

"What…what happened?" Bill asked. He looked a mess and his hair was sticking in all directions.

"Did he…" Fred closed his eyes because he couldn't say those words. George said it for him. "Did Percy die?"

"Not yet," Charlie said. His voice was as delicate as the macaroons that he'd been eating with Fred this morning. Had their lives literally been that normal this morning? George found that so hard to believe. "But I've never seen anyone that sick before. He was—when we left, he was…" Charlie turned as green as a Common Welsh.

Bill just raised an eyebrow. "What are you lot doing out?" he asked hotly. "Just waiting for him to die alone?"

"N-no…" Arthur was sweating through his robes. "They-they'd told us to wait outside.".

George was shocked that this was happening. He didn't think that Percy was this sick. Everyone looked lost and broken. If he'd been this sick, there was no way that they'd ever let themselves stay in the Ministry for that long.

"I'm not waiting outside!" Bill asked angrily. "Where is he? We're going to go see him _NOW_."

George was angry too. Nobody thought to let them know how ill he was?

"We can't go in, you berk," Ron said hotly. "They don't need you moaning around, disrupting them from doing their job just so you could feel a little better about yourself. That you were there for him when he was dying. Tell me, Bill, what are you going to do for them? Are you actively going to be help them save Percy from his perilous fate?"

Bill jumped back as if he'd been slammed by a Bludger. "No but…" his voice softened. "I…"

"They just took him to intensive care, Bill. He's really ill. I've never seen him like this," Molly answered. You could tell how much pain she was in, even if she wasn't crying now. George could tell from her voice and from the look on her face that she'd been crying for ages. She was probably so tired from all the crying. "He had a heart attack… he… his blood pressure was so low. He was so unstable. When we left, there were five people around his bed just trying to get him to…" that was when his mum started sobbing again, tears running down her cheeks.

George felt like his heart had stopped. "A heart attack?" he whispered. "The git had an actual heart attack?"

"But he's-he's only twenty-three!" Fred argued, looking at them in disbelief. "Who lives through one of the biggest wars in a decade and then dies a few months later from a heart attack when they're barely old enough to buy a drink?"

"I know, Fred," Arthur whispered. George didn't know why he found it so unbelievable. He'd spent the whole time on the ground, clutching his chest and looking like he was in serious pain. But heart attacks happened to fifty-year-old man the size of Hagrid that smoked twenty packets of cigarettes a day and ate beer battered sausages every night for dinner. Percy was a twenty-three-year-old that believed that thought drinking two glasses of wine constituted as an alcohol addiction and had approximately the same figure as a bowtruckle. Oh, and he was also a sodding vegetarian.

"You know? You _KNOW?"_ Fred screamed. "I can't imagine treating him like your little pitiful personal house elf had anything to do with it! The Muggle Liaison office knew he did our _dry cleaning?_ What's… what's wrong with you?"

"I know," Arthur didn't even deny it. George was angry too, but he was so tired of having so many feelings.

Bill leaned against the wall. George felt weak for sitting on that plastic chair because his legs were hurting. He was so tired. He was suddenly glad that Molly and Lucy weren't with them. "I thought that he fainted," George admitted.

Ginny's lip twitched a little and she looked like she was about to cry. "Do you know what's funny?" she said softly. "Do you know how we were afraid about mum's high thyroid levels? Well, at least we know what to look out for."

"You mean that Percy has…?" Fred asked. Ginny nodded her head. "That's what made him have the heart attack?"

"Yeah, apparently, that's a thyroid storm," Charlie explained, scoffing because it was ridiculous. "You know that very thing the healers told mum she needed to reduce the levels of stress she has so it didn't happen to her?"

Before they left the house, their father nearly had a coronary himself because their mum had tried to do the dusting before they left to go to the Ministry Ball. She 'shouldn't be doing anything' he'd said to them multiple times. Then in another turn of events, he was piling on more work onto Percy than anyone could possibly begin to cope with. Percy was actively dying because of this? Because of a few pieces of paper that his father couldn't bother doing himself?

"He never said anything about it," Ginny broke George out of his thoughts. "But when he started his job with Crouch, he started seeing a psychiatric healer about palpitations he's been having since he was a second year. The healers think that's when it started and that he's just not been getting help for it for ages."

"Apparently, stressing out over every little thing possible is not normal," Ron mumbled. "Who would've thought?"

George winced at that, but he supposed he could understand where that came from. Fred and himself used to love riling Percy up because his reactions were hilarious. They had no idea that after they were done with him, he had to deal with his heart doing funny things for the rest of the day. Percy had never said anything about that.

"I thought Percy was just… an anxious person," Bill rubbed his arm. "I didn't know he tried to get help for it."

"Mum said that she's been having palpitations with her chest pain," Charlie explained. George wondered if they would've found it at that age, and if they'd given Percy the potions that he'd needed, would he have grown up with less of a stick up his arse? He certainly wouldn't be having a heart attack at the age of twenty-three. "And they told mum that hers was genetic, so why was it so shocking that one of her seven children has it too? And well, with the stress of running the whole bloody Ministry and having that custody fight with Fearn, his thyroid level went soaring…and well, he just… after that, it just overworked his heart so much that… that's how he had a heart attack."

"That's why his temperature was so high," Molly said quietly. "Because of that."

"I don't know how he'd make it out of this," added Daphne quietly. "If he survives then heart attack, then he has to deal with the fever. If it's not the fever, then it's the two fits that he had after that… and-and he's so sickly…"

"He has a forty-two degrees fever," Charlie told a sickly-looking Bill. "He's been set to boil. And he's about as yellow as a Hufflepuff scarf too…oh yes, he had two fits after the heart attack. But at least the healers reassured us that the mental display he had in the Ministry Ball was probably because of how absolutely delirious he was, right?"

"That… that wasn't even his fault?" Fred was stunned learning that. "What he said in the Ministry Ball?"

"No," Arthur's voice was softer than the cream inside a Boston crème doughnut. "He had every right to say those things, but the healers think he's said them because of how confused he was when he came in."

Do you think _The Daily Prophet_ cared about that though? As far as they knew, the delirium was because he was going through alcoholic withdrawal. Percy and his two glasses of wine a day habit that he was so sure was a problem. That neurotic little prat spent his whole life like that without a single calming draught to help him out. Horrific.

George felt like he was slapped in the face. "Was… was he like this in the morning?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"I…I honestly don't," Arthur admitted. How utterly useless. "I didn't notice. I don't think so."

"All this because of a fight that happened five years ago?" Molly sounded disappointed. George hated hearing his mum sound like that because she sounded like she'd given up. "Merlin, he is right. You really are a child, Arthur."

"I know, love," Arthur looked like a child that had been chided for what he'd been doing. That was a terrifying thought considering that Arthur was the Minister of Magic. Was this what they were coming to now?

"Oh, don't 'love' me," Molly spat back at him, but it lacked any kind of venom. She sounded as spent as George felt. "How could you do this?"

Daphne cleared her throat. "Mrs Weasley, he…he was ill this morning." It was embarrassing that she was a more reliable narrator than their own father. Percy worked for their father. How could their dad not notice? "I told him—well, _demanded_ —that he go back to his flat, but he insisted on staying there because of how much work he had to do. You know what a pompous, stubborn git he could be if he really wants to be. We split the work between us… well, unevenly. He took ninety percent of the load, as per usual. We ate lunch around noon, and he kept complaining about his stomach hurting. He thought he ate something dodgy because he kept on going to the bathroom the whole day."

George snorted. Only Percy could get food poisoning that ended up giving him a massive coronary!

"But I should've known," Daphne admitted, her voice was soft. "Because um… around three, he told me that he was going to go home and come back just to sign off at five. I told him he doesn't have to come back because I know how to forge his signature. And-and he gave me permission to do it! Forge his own signature! Can you believe that?"

Daphne stiffened. "I…I didn't say anything at the time because I didn't want to get him into trouble."

Arthur paled dramatically. "I wouldn't have…I…" he paused. George was sure that he didn't want to believe that he was so out of touch that he would've slaughtered Percy for doing something everyone else did. Including himself.

"Oh, as if I believe that, Mr Weasley! Cry me a bloody river!" Daphne said, deadpanned. George shuddered. "You wouldn't have noticed, you mean? You wouldn't have said anything? Ha! If you knew, you would've humiliated him in front of the whole Ministry just to make a point about it! You… you would've somehow found a way to give him extra work and make him even more miserable for doing something any normal wizard would do!"

George tried to imagine the scenario that Daphne had been describing, but it just sounded wrong. Percy working day and night to do work that probably wasn't even his to begin with whilst balancing two five-year-old girls… added to that the fact that Arthur yelled at him for cutting corners to try to finish a job that a whole department would have difficulty achieving—much less one person! That just… it didn't sound like his father. Was she lying? What happened?

Was the fight really that bad that it drove this big of a wedge between them? George had hated Percy for being so stubborn during the war, but he wasn't the only one. They didn't feel safe huddled up together in Grimmauld Place and his mum had an aneurysm when they'd tried to leave the place during the summer. But even then, that wasn't enough to get either Arthur or Percy talking to each other. Meanwhile, Percy lived alone in a flat with two girls.

Was that really worth the fight they had? Was it worth the points that either of them made?

There was a few moments of silence and George wondered how sick Percy was right now.

What if he died now and they didn't know about it? He couldn't imagine how it would be like. To die in there in that room alone. From the sounds of things, everyone believed that his hours were numbered. The air felt so somber that George felt like Percy had already died. Even now, there was a gnawing, hollow feeling in his stomach that made him feel like he'd already lost him. It felt like losing a limb, or his other ear. He hadn't felt this hopeless in his life.

"Isn't…" Arthur cleared his voice, trying to break the silence. "Isn't anyone going to say anything?"

"What do you want us to tell you, dad?" Charlie asked stoically. He didn't sound angry. He sounded empty and hurt. George felt that way too. "Do you want us to congratulate you for giving him a heart attack?"

"No, no…" Arthur rubbed his neck. "I want…" he paused, looking at Molly who didn't meet his eyes.

"What do you want us to do, dad? Do you want us to hate you? Do you want us to yell at you, ask you why you did all this in the first place?" Bill asked, his voice tired and scratchy. Arthur paused for a moment, considering this and nodded his head. "And what do you think it's going to accomplish if we do? What's the point of it now, dad? Do you think that if we ask you what you've been doing with him all this time, it's going to change anything? Do you think _that's_ going to help Percy now?" Arthur flinched at those words, but George knew that he was right.

If they sat there, yelling at their father from then on to back, it wouldn't make Percy any less sick than he was.

"No," Arthur must have realised that too. "I suppose it wouldn't."

Another fifteen minutes must've passed but it felt like it was longer. George was trembling when he'd heard the healers call them in, and he didn't know what he expected to see but it wasn't this. When he came in, he saw Percy, tube in throat, wrapped around in layers of uncomfortable-looking cooling blankets. They worked through a complicated freezing charm from what George knew. He had a line in his arm that was pumping a blood-coloured potion that he wasn't 100% sure was blood to begin with. Oh, and he was so yellow he could make a canary cream look white.

George reached to hold Percy's hand, and felt his stomach twist when he realised how hot he still was.

"Hey, Perce," George wasn't sure if he could hear. He felt like he was just making an arse out of himself. "I'm sorry."

He was sorry that he failed him, that Christopher took his daughters away, that the fight went on for so long, that he…

The situation was like this for the last few days. George had never been on edge as he was then.

Every morning he'd come after, he expected someone to tell him that Percy had passed away during the night. He was terrified that Percy woke up and someone told him about how they'd taken his daughters away and his heart was going to give out because it couldn't take anymore. Every night that the whole family was kicked out because they couldn't stay there forever. So, George was forced to go home with this sick feeling in his stomach. He and Fred took turns sleeping because one of them wanted to be awake just in case an owl came during the night.

They were like Inferi walking into the room. Fred and George fell asleep feeling restless and afraid of what was going to happen. Their shop was in absolute chaos. All George could remember doing the past few days was putting on these sweatpants with holes in them in honour of Percy, the prat that didn't bother going clothes shopping, and drinking this disgusting coffee water every night just to stay awake. Even Daphne Greengrass, that always looked pretty, somehow managed to look less _Witch Weekly_ front cover model and more like the Moaning Myrtle.

On the fourth day, the healers took the tube out of Percy, but he was still about as responsive as a rock. Even the muggleborns that had been petrified in the castle Ginny's first year to Hogwarts had more life to them.

But George was ashamed to say that after the fifth day, he'd started dozing off from exhaustion. This was particularly troubling because he and Fred were supposed to watch Percy in case he did something—you know, in case he moved, blinked or his lip twitched. Any sign of life would've been great at this point, just to take the edge off the _Percy could die at any time_ feeling. You'd think him breathing on his own would do that, but Percy's chest barely rose as it was.

When George slept on the hospital chair, he felt like he was floating. Like he was in the middle of a Quidditch game.

And he stayed asleep until he heard Percy's hoarse, tired voice say, "Where—where are they…?"

George immediately opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to process the fact that Percy was awake.

"Percy," Fred got up from where he was sitting down, but even he didn't look relieved.

Percy seemed like he didn't care about where he was. His hands were reaching over to the empty spaces behind him. "Where are they?" he asked again even though it sounded like his throat hurt. He was starting to sweat and pant. His lips were pursed into a tight thin line and his eyes were burning with tears. "Where are my daughters?"

George didn't know if he should answer him, because he was soaking in sweat and panting like crazy.

"I…" Fred looked like he didn't know if he should tell Percy either. "Perce, you have to calm down. You could—"

"I don't care!" Percy shrieked at him, sounding a lot more unhinged than George was used to. His whole hair was damp, and he was clutching onto stomach like it hurt. "Where. Are. My. Daughters?" he asked hotly.

"Mr Weasley, you have to calm down," one of the healers said but Percy wasn't listening to any of it. He was just shaking his head repeatedly, sweating through his clothes and looking like he was about to have another heart attack. "You're in the intensive care unit, Mr Weasley. You almost died. You've been in the hospital for the last four—"

"Do I look like I care?" Percy asked her coldly. "Where are my daughters?" he asked Fred and George again.

"Perce, we can't tell you that," Fred whispered. "You have to calm down. You're really sick."

"Fine. Have it your way!" Percy was seething. "If you're not going to tell me, then I'll find out by myself."

George always knew that Percy was reckless and that he neglected himself, but he didn't imagine that he would be daft enough to try to apparate away in the middle of the intensive care unit after he just woke up from a four-day coma.

But fortunately, Percy was so exhausted that he physically could not apparate, so he just collapsed in his bed, sobbing.

"Why won't anyone tell me?" Percy asked, and Fred slowly picked up his hand to squeeze it. It was then that Percy's eyes just widened. He was panting even more and Merlin, was he going to give himself another heart attack? "They're not with me anymore…are they?" he was sweating so profusely that it was almost like he wet the bed.

"I…" George didn't know what to do. "You-you have to calm down or you could have another heart attack and—"

"They didn't give me a trial, did they? They just let that bastard Fearn take them, didn't they?" Percy kept asking. His eyes were practically bulging out of his sockets and he was biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Would you please answer me? Why? Am I suddenly too weak and frail for you to tell me the bloody truth…? _TELL ME!"_

"I'm so sorry, Perce," Fred and George said in unison. Because what else could they say?

"Perce, you have to calm down," Fred said, keeping his voice as low as possible. "You could die if… if…"

"Don't be daft, Fred. Do you really believe that?" Percy's eyes were a dark murky blue. They looked about as hollow as George felt on the inside. "Nothing I want ever happens," he sounded disappointed, like a famous Quidditch player that just got told that they could never play again. Like his life had absolutely no meaning whatsoever.

George felt like telling Percy that this was part of the illness, how he felt like, but he couldn't. "But you—"

"Can you please go?" Percy asked in the rudest tone that he could possibly muster. George felt a little thrown back, but he nodded his head. He and Fred walked out of the room but not before George took one last look at him. He looked even more miserable now than he was when he had a tube in his throat.


	31. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 5

_warnings for mentions of **rape / sexual assault**. no, it's not Percy or the girls... i promise! this is not a 'Muggle Me' scenario. i feel like these two stories are starting to overlap way too much for my own good, but i couldn't not use this plotline because i've been preparing for it for ages. it fits with the hints i had for it too!  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty-One: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 5

* * *

Percy Weasley had been shifted from intensive care to a normal bed on the ward, where people were busy sneezing fumes from a fire-breathing potion they ingested or had their skin turned blue because of a bad spell… um… literally.

And yet people there were shocked that he, a thin, twenty-three-year-old vegetarian, managed to have a heart attack!

They should see him eat. Percy lived on half-off tofu pastries that had the fat content of a full-sized chocolate bar.

The last vegetable Percy ate had had been floating in a cup-a-soup he'd bought in from home. The last real fruit Percy ate was a raspberry they'd put in the middle of a gigantic vanilla cupcake he had from the Ministry Munchies stall at three in the morning. Sure, Percy might be on the lanky side, but his arteries were probably blocked from all the cream he'd been packing away in plentiful amounts. It was a real mystery where Lucy and Molly got this love of fruits and vegetables from—probably from Christopher Fearn, who, by the way, launched a healthy eating campaign last year. He also ran three marathons in a month and had been featured in _Witch Weekly_ magazine for _Ministry Studs_.

For some unknown reason, Percy hadn't been considered for this feature. He still didn't have a clue as to why!

Though he wasn't too upset. After all, he'd been on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ for the last three days. He'd managed to get himself jobless and hated by the wizarding society in a mere hour! Yesterday, he had three owls sent to him, telling him that he hoped he died in the hospital. Percy stayed alive out of spite. He wasn't about to let _Fluffy Kneazle Girl_ best him. After all, if he was miserable, the whole wizarding society should be miserable too!

He did read that feature about him. His favourite paragraph was as followed: _We were blind sighted by the corruption in our government. The Ministry Ball event continued to be the talk of the century, as twenty-three-year-old ex-junior assistant to the Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley, publicly disclosed his displeasure with the Minister, stating that 'I have to take care of three _ children now' and insisting that the government would fall if not for his care. The custody battle between him and Christopher Fearn had been settled promptly by the Wizengamot. Fearn did not press charges even though Weasley had stolen his daughters from him. He wished to have a full and happy life with them. But Percy Weasley was unable to comment on this turn of events as he is in St Mungo's ward recovering from a thyrotoxicosis emergency. He is refusing all visitors and declared that 'all reporters are leeches'._

To be fair, he had refused all visitors for the whole week that he'd been in the ward but this morning, he felt hopeful. It was almost like he could see a light at the end of this dark, relentless hole he had been in for the past week. After telling his nurse about this new-found conviction, they'd rushed out straight after to owl his family. This was after they gave him an inedible tray of unidentifiable food objects that Percy was sure they belonged in a Potions classroom. When he picked up a carrot that looked like a miniature Whomping Willow, he wondered if he'd been too hopeful.

Percy was proud of the article. Even drowsy and suicidal, he was still sensible enough to tell all the reporters off.

But he particularly liked that paragraph because after he was forced to drink a chalky nutritional supplement that tasted like a troll's undergarments, he received a package from a worried Hermes. And after Hermes nearly clipped Percy's nail off for scaring him, he gave him another copy of today's Prophet. Percy chided Hermes, telling that he'd already read it! He was just about to throw it out when he noticed that this one was battered-looking.

There was a piece of parchment paper on the top that was spello-taped on saying ' _Lucy and I fixed it, dad!'_.

It was the same article, except that there were lines that had been crossed out by Lucy and Molly's pink quills.

As he tried to keep down the nutritional supplement he was forced to drink, he found himself smiling. Him. Percy Weasley, smiling for the first time in a whole week. _We were blind. The Ministry Ball event continued to be the talk of the century, as twenty-three-year-old junior assistant to the Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley, publicly disclosed his displeasure with the Minister, stating that 'I have to take care of three _ children now'. The government would fall if not for his care. The custody battle between him and Christopher Fearn had been settled promptly by the Wizengamot. Fearn had stolen his daughters from him. He wished to have a full and happy life. But he is in St Mungo's ward recovering from a toxic emergency. He is refusing all leeches._

He was still beaming like a mischievous Fred and George did when his family walked in.

It was around four o'clock in the afternoon. Percy had already showered and had walked around the hospital so much that one of the healers threatened to sedate him if he 'didn't take it easy'. Percy didn't know how much easier he could take things. All he did during the day was avoid their salt-free, fat-free diet and pace around the length of the whole hospital, wearing nothing but a shockingly revealing teal-coloured gown and a couple of white slippers. He looked like he belonged in a muggle horror film, especially when he'd accidentally mooned a sixth year Slytherin whilst he was walking up the stairs. Percy would've offered her to have her eyes looked after, if he wasn't broke and jobless.

He tried to stop smiling now that his family was around but now that he was aware of it, he just smiled even more. Godric, this was a nightmare. He felt like a Hufflepuff that had just been proposed to by the seaside. Horrible.

"Percy?" he heard his father's voice and he felt a shiver down his spine. "Percival?"

"I wish someone gave me a Galleon every time you call me Percival. At least I'd have one less problem in my life," Percy put down the paper, as if he was caught doing something illegal and then flushed deeply. "Yes?"

Arthur smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Do you feel… alright?"

"I'm fine," Percy answered. If he was not fine, he'd have kicked them out so he could be miserable. "Obviously."

Ron stared at Percy like his freckles just turned purple. "What's that on your face?" he asked.

"A smile," Percy tried to think of all the things that made him hate life, like incomplete reports, hospital food and when Dorothy used to come around and plug their toilets up because she had a textbook list of intolerances. Percy had his own gigantic list of intolerances himself, but to be fair, ninety percent of his intolerances were people.

Ron cocked his head to one side as if really trying to look at it. "Well, take it off. It looks unnatural."

It made Percy smile even more, and the more he smiled, the more he felt his chest hurt and his heart ache.

He was sure that Audrey didn't have half as near mood swings as he was having. One minute he was smiling because his daughters had sent him such a lovely thing and the next thing he was crying because he just felt so overwhelmed.

Percy didn't know why but he suddenly felt so alone. Why was it when he didn't want anyone to come and see him, they were all saying sweet things about him to the nurses? But when he'd invited them in out of the goodness of his heart, everything became so awkward and tense. He couldn't smile and laugh and joke with them because just over a week ago, he'd been in intensive care, clinging onto his life. Nobody thought he'd have made it out alive.

He stayed silent as he stared back at George, his face unchanging. He felt a great big hole in his chest now that he was sure was not there this morning when he was drinking tea and reading the first issue of the Daily Prophet.

Percy rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said weakly, but he didn't know why he was sorry either.

"Come on," Arthur said in a very soft voice. "How about you come back home?" he asked.

Percy didn't know if home meant home being his flat, Audrey's flat or back in the Burrow.

They'd been staring at him like they were scared. They didn't know what he was going to do. After that, they'd been tiptoeing around him for the past hour, afraid that they'd say or do the wrong things around him as they got his things ready from the hospital. They were waiting for St Mungo's to discharge him. Penelope had been busy and even though she was post call she promised that she was going to come by before he was discharged from the hospital.

By the time that it was around five, Penelope walked into the room, looking tired and spent. She wrapped her arms around him and she cried. She'd been crying every time she'd come to see him after he'd woken up.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Penelope had been telling him the same thing every day. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

She'd run her hands through his hair, smiling at him with watery eyes. She thought that she almost killed him.

"I'm fine." Percy promised her, smiling back at her. He knew how she felt like, because he'd felt that way with Audrey. It was a horrible feeling and he wished that he could take it away from her, because he didn't blame her for what happened. "Penny, I promise I'm fine," but he knew that she felt like this was her fault somehow.

Penelope shook her head. She looked like she really needed a good night's sleep. She kissed his cheek.

"Take care of yourself," Percy felt the need to tell her, his eyes soft and blue. "Penny, please." She just smiled back.

Just as they were about to leave, he was almost knocked back by Daphne Greengrass who had raced to come and see him before he left. She was dressed appropriately… he couldn't even guess what colour underpants she was wearing today! She hugged him as hard as she could, practically breaking his bones with a strength that surpassed Charlie's.

"Aren't they supposed to fatten you up in a hospital?" Daphne asked, and Percy just groaned. "What? Weren't there any deep-fried chocolate biscuits you could have whilst you were being under observation for a heart attack?"

He was so hungry that the idea of a deep-fried biscuit sounded amazing. "Do… do you have any?" Percy asked.

They did end up back in the Burrow and Percy didn't know how to feel as he sat on the couch with his mum.

The rest of the family elected to prepare that belated Sunday roast they'd been talking about on the day of the Ministry Ball. Percy, who had been starving all week, suddenly had no appetite. He couldn't believe he was in the Burrow again!

As he sat on the Couch of Non-Prostatic Dismay, Percy spent the last few days thinking about how he almost died. He'd spent even more time thinking about Audrey. He'd had two fits in intensive care. Audrey died from a fit! Why didn't he? He kept thinking about how she immediately believed Charlie over him, and he felt so confused. How come he felt so close to someone that had died? Someone that had betrayed him? How come he could forgive Audrey for doing all those horrible things to him, but he couldn't forgive his family for saying all those meaningless things?

With Audrey, everything was about it looked. You'd think with the number of books that she'd read that she would know not to judge a book by its second-hand cover, but… but she did. She didn't want to keep rereading that book she'd loved since high school. She wanted to get stuck new, big glossy novels with flowery descriptions.

Sure, the Weasleys did not have the most attractive features, but he was the worst looking of the bunch. Even Ron, who couldn't give a toss about how he looked like, could swoon Lavender Brown without having to write three-foot essay. But Madam Malkin had been right. If he really tried to, he could be. He could slather on his face with more product than Primpernelle advised and put on twenty-four-hour glamour charms. He could have his face cut until he looked decent enough. But did Percy want to look any different? What was the point? Even with glamour charms and lip scar removal creams, Audrey had been stripped of all beauty on the day that she died. She turned whiter than the sheets. She looked like a corpse even before she died because who could look great after an emergency hysterectomy?

She was just an empty shell of a shell. _Gone._ But these days, people painted shells until they were glowing again.

He thought about that whilst he was sat there in the hospital, yellow-skinned, wrinkly and about to die. He had two fits. He lived whilst Audrey died. He could still map out how the shadows fell around her face and could hear the beating of her heart come to a halt. Percy had come to believe that she hadn't started her life—she'd been waiting until she didn't have lip scars and wore cup sizes that didn't come from the children's section. She died unfulfilled. And if Percy had died when he was that sick, he would've died unfulfilled too. He was just like her in a way. An empty shell.

Was it worth it? Percy wondered. Could they have done anything to save Audrey from her fate? Was this her destiny?

And what was his fate? He did what she did too. He put on his flowery façade of _I'm fine!_ _I can do this by myself_ but…

She died in that room, for _his_ children. He didn't care if they were legally Christopher's, they were his at the time and they were his now. She didn't want them. She didn't care for them. And he came to the realisation he didn't know anything about her. He only knew a very small portion in the life of muggle girl Audrey Claire Brown. Did that justify his feelings? Why was Percy carrying a five-year-old festering pain for a girl that he'd only known for a couple of months? Could you really fall in love with someone that fast? Was this him being selfish, because he thought that he was responsible for her death? If Dominic hadn't nearly killed Molly that day, would he still think about her as much?

Percy thought it was possible to love someone so quickly, because the second that he saw his daughters, he'd been so sure that he was willing to tear out his heart for them. But was it the same kind of love he felt for Audrey?

Did he pity her more than he loved her? Did he pity the fact that she lost her life so young? Did he hate not knowing?

As the hours passed in the last few days, Percy thought of the name that Audrey told him in that very coffee shop. _Christopher Fearn_. The bloke that she'd wanted to impress with her now scarless, beautiful face. What kind of love did Audrey have for Christopher Fearn? Did she used to admire him from afar? Did they have something special together?

It had been a slap in the face, of course. Because as much as he didn't want to admit it, as much as he hated Fearn for what he had done to him, Christopher Fearn was Percy Weasley. That was if Percy had been attractive.

Christopher Fearn was a muggleborn that left Beauxbatons at the age of fifteen to finish his muggle education. According to Madam Malkin, that fine blue robes was probably what made his eyes look like they belonged in Lucius Malfoy's Gringott safe. He lived in muggle London, just a few blocks from where Percy lived. He worked in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. In the Muggle Liaison office, even with his muggle background. Their offices were only a few minutes apart. When Percy asked the woman at Ministry Munchies about him, she was amazed that Percy hadn't met him! _Have you been living under an invisibility cloak?_ She'd asked.

It was then that Percy wondered if Audrey had wanted him all along, or if she was playing out a fantasy in her mind where she had Christopher instead. Had he been played? Did she even _like_ him? He pushed those thoughts away.

Could you really think so badly about someone that had died like that? But if Christopher didn't care, why should he?

Fearn was a redhead with bright blue eyes that looked like sapphires. He was freckled, like Percy was, but his freckles looked like intentional strokes on a portrait. He was thin without looking like he was just asking to be punched in the face by anyone that was over fifteen stones. And no matter how much Percy thought about it, he did not know how to turn his pasty skin and misplaced freckles into something as deliberate and beautiful as Christopher Fearn. How could someone have the same features as you and look so different at the same time?

Percy didn't like to think about Christopher, or the fact that if you compared Percy to any other member of the expanding Weasley family, he came up short. It was as of his uncertainty and disgust at himself showed in his face.

"Excuse me," Percy said, standing up from where he'd been sitting. "I'm just going to go out for some air."

Molly stood up, placing a hand on his arm. "Percy, let me go with you," she said but Percy just shook his head.

"I'd rather be alone. I won't be long, just a little walk around the woods," he admitted. Percy felt an ache in his chest he couldn't describe if he tried. "I'll be fine," he smiled at his mum weakly, letting her hug him. He felt so sad.

Percy ventured out of the Burrow on foot. He walked into the woods a little bit, and then he apparated away.

To this day, Percy still paid for Audrey's flat. He spent mounds of his income in a place he barely set foot in.

He still kept it the same. He still came around every week to clean the flat from top to bottom like Audrey would've done it. Even now, as he walked in, it still smelled of her floral perfume. He could almost see the ghost of Audrey sitting on that couch, reading a book she'd probably read about a million times already. He could almost see her stood by the kitchen, making some kind of inedible quinoa concoction that his mum could probably use as fertiliser. He picked up a petal from an assortment of flowers he always bought, and then picked at it. She loved him, she didn't, she loved him, she absolutely loathed him and wished that he would've died instead of her, she loved him, she…

Percy tossed the flowers aside. He made himself a cup of tea just how she liked it: absolutely disgusting black water tea. He drank it even though it was hard to choke down. He then set his task to cleaning her room.

It was seven in the evening. This was when Lucy and Molly scoffed custard creams after dinner.

With the sludge in his stomach, he felt almost nauseous. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Christopher's flat, demanding that he give him his children back. What was he doing in the Burrow? Nobody was talking about what he'd just lost. If he did get his daughters back, how were they going to live now that everyone hated him, and nobody wanted to employ him? What was he going to do without him? His life was unravelling. He was…

As he wiped down the shelves with the tact of a drunken mountain troll looking for a girl to take him, all of the books on the shelves fell to the floor. Percy's heart stopped in his chest when he noticed his gardenia bookmark sticking out.

He felt the urge to shred it into pieces. Why did she leave him like this? Did she even bloody care that she did?

Percy picked the book up, and then flipped to the page. He felt so hot in the room that he was not sure he was able to breathe, even though her muggle air conditioning was on. He rolled his button-down sleeve. Percy was sure that for a few seconds, he only saw black. In the little book, there was a crisp white envelope addressed to him. Addressed to him. An envelope that had been in this flat for the last five years. Was this like the one that she'd kept tucked away in her house? Was this like the one that Penelope read, like the one that told her that Christopher was the father?

With shaky hands, Percy didn't even bother preserving the envelope. He tore it apart and sat on her couch.

 _Dear Percival…_ it began, and Percy skimmed through the letter like this wasn't the last words of someone that had died.

 _I am writing this to you because I can't sleep. I've written a few letters about this. But this is the only one that I want you to read._

 _I was thinking about the things that we've shared together. I hate your clothes. I know charity shops that would toss your clothes out because they're not good enough. I hate that you eat like a three-year-old without restrictions. I hate that you snore at night like you're choking on a biscuit, which apparently is all you seem to eat anyways. I hate so many things about you, and yet I don't think I'd ever be able to feel this way about anyone before. Our friend Penelope told me that you'd been seeing a psychiatrist because you have an anxiety disorder. I don't know why I never noticed before, because you are generally about as calm as a six-year-old standing on the edge of a cliff. You notice details even I haven't paid attention to. You take ages to fall asleep and are aroused by my neighbour's alarm clock! You look tired all the time… I can't imagine how it must be like. It can't be that pleasant to be alert about everything twenty-four-seven. She thinks that it's made you depressed. I think so too. There's something in your eyes that is vacant and blank, like an endless black hole. I think you've been inside a deep black hole for a very long time. Are you ever going to come out of there or are you just going to be staying in there forever? Because even my bookstore doesn't get that dark at night. And it's black!_

 _Because of that I'm sure the second you'd heard about my pre-eclampsia, you'd started to read all about it, making horrible scenarios in your head. I bet you think I'll die in a vat of blood, pulseless and weak by the end of the labour process. Silly you, Percival._

"Silly me," said Percy in a soft voice, feeling his chest ache. He never wished that he'd been wrong so badly.

 _I wrote a few other letters. I talked about Christopher Fearn, but I could never send them to you. You looked so overwhelmed with your life. I'm sure if I sent any of these letters to you now, I was going to be giving you a heart attack!_

Percy smiled slightly. Merlin, his wife had been a seer it seemed! He was on dual potions now because of it!

 _Christopher Fearn is my ex-boyfriend. Shocking, isn't it? You'd think I had the time with all the A* levels I had! But I met him when I was fifteen. My first impression, even though he was conventionally attractive, was that we would look like a couple of siblings having it off if we'd ever gotten together…which, of course, is how we look like together as well. Hadn't you ever seen how people look at us when we kiss, Percival? I bet they're just seconds away from calling the police and reporting a crime._

 _There aren't many freckled redheads in the world, and I'd managed to snag two that bear no relation to me whatsoever!_

 _But somehow, Christopher and I did end up being friends. He came from a French boarding school that I'd never heard the name of called Beauxbatons. I realise now, from the wizarding literature that you gave me, that he was like you. I suppose I attract the same sort, don't I? But I liked being with Christopher, because being with him was like being in a romantic novel. I wasn't too keen on them but there was something beautiful about being a part of that experience. We ate fattening chocolate croissants every morning and went on long walks on the beach. They were so boring that I considered relieving myself on the beach just to have something exciting happen. He always got my coffee order wrong and didn't understand why I only owned white cotton socks. I thought that he had been trying to romance me, but I was very wrong. He was only interested in those sparkly, beautiful type girls. He'd let me know, very early on, that he didn't consider me a woman because of how I looked. I didn't find this insulting. I was relieved that he didn't find me attractive but soon after, I'd felt a gnawing jealousy growing inside of me. I hadn't been interested in him but knowing that he wasn't interested in me made me feel very worthless. Even though Christopher didn't go to my school, he was as popular as Harry Potter is in your world. Everyone loved him. He was conventionally beautiful, but he wasn't particularly intelligent. His idea of a wonderful evening probably wasn't white-cotton-knicker friendly. But for a very long time, he was like a diamond necklace you saw in a store that you wanted because everyone else wanted it… but deep inside, I didn't really want him. I know that now._

 _When I met you for the first time, I didn't know what to think of you. You seemed intelligent, but you also didn't know the most basic children's book despite 'reading so much'! You were not conventionally attractive. You looked a little like I did… if I'd grown past five feet tall. And when you slept with me the first time, I had been a virgin. I don't think you were aware of this fact. I couldn't tell you because you already looked like you were afraid that you had dislocated my pelvis. But I didn't feel like something had been taken from me that night. And although my body ached physically, that bookmark that you gave me was one of the most beautiful things that I had ever received from anyone in my life. There was something about you that reminded me of a gardenia too. You were very pure, and your heart was so white it was almost like I could paint it…not that I would! I'm terrible at that sort of thing!_

 _I had just been drinking a coffee a few days later when I saw Christopher again. I didn't understand why but he was under the impression that I loved him, and that I was obsessed with him from our school years. He had lost his popularity once the school year was done. All he had now was a girl with a split lip scar. Someone that was too short and too thin for him. I don't understand where he'd come to believe that I had wanted him. My mistake perhaps was that I didn't read the signs very well. I took Christopher back to my flat because I thought he was my friend. He kept asking me if I found him attractive. I was uncomfortable and just agreed to whatever he'd said, because I was under the impression that he just wanted me to pat his ego. I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into until he'd started kissing me. I told him to stop but my resistance angered him. He felt like he deserved to have me because he was beautiful, and I was not. I had been in pain for days after. I didn't understand what I had done to make him behave like this. I didn't understand how someone that could buy me breakfast for three years could do this to me._

 _I'd already taken a pregnancy test the first time I slept with you. I got my period a few days after. When I knew I was pregnant, I knew for a fact that it was Christopher's. Even before the myriad of testing that I did, but it couldn't be his, you see? Do you understand that, Percival? It couldn't be his, because I couldn't live with myself. After what he'd done to me, it couldn't be his._

 _You understood why I wanted to get rid of them now, don't you? I couldn't have them growing inside of me. I didn't know how to have a baby by myself, like my sister. I didn't know how she'd managed to do it. She had to have been stronger than I was. I couldn't even look at myself without thinking of what he'd done to me. I felt like I hadn't had my split lip repaired, like there was something wholly wrong with me that everyone else could see. I didn't want to see them or hold them. I was convinced that if I could get rid of them, then that feeling would go away too. That was when I told Dominic about what happened to me. He took me to the hospital, and they examined me a few days after. Even without the seminal fluid, there was evidence that he had coerced himself into me. I had a very small pelvis, so it was particularly obvious. After my first failed attempt, I felt livid. And I, for someone that had read so many books, was foolish enough to tell Christopher about the abortion. I called him, and I told him the details of my pregnancy. He told me that I had to get rid of them, because he was sure I'd never have any normal babies. That something was going to go wrong because I was a 'split lipped freak'. Dominic was an uncontrolled epileptic. Sophia had a congenital heart condition that we didn't have enough money to repair either and she could die in any minute. My family did not have healthy babies. So, why would I?_

 _I told you that I booked that appointment for the D &C and that beautiful story about the woman. That was not true. I had already been in the clinic for the D&C when I called him. I heard the woman cry. I didn't go through with it not but because of her. But because he told me that I had to, and I couldn't do it because it was what he would've wanted from me. I sound so foolish, don't I?_

 _I didn't see anyone for months. But when Penelope came by to see me, she'd assumed that it had been yours! And what was I supposed to tell her? That I was raped by a bloke that also happened to be a freckled redhead? And that was when it began. I didn't consider lying to you before, but I felt like the world had hurt me in so many ways. I felt like I was allowed to be hurt people too. I had turned very cold on the inside by then. I felt like you were so happy, and untainted (I'm sure you're laughing reading this now, Percival. I truly, truly apologise), but I didn't know at the time about the hole. I thought that the it led to a flower garden. I didn't know that it was so empty. But when my family saw you, they saw Christopher Fearn standing there. How could I tell you without telling you the truth? How could I explain why they hated you? Why I couldn't defend you?_

 _It had been a beautiful lie. Even though you didn't like it (and I know that you didn't), I loved my black hole wedding. I loved my little faux honeymoon. I loved being in my favourite pyjamas, reading a book that I'd read many times before and just being in a room with someone else. I loved it more than I loved my holiday. I loved falling asleep next to you at night and listening to you snore like a jackhammer (you don't know what that is, do you?). I love watching you drool all over yourself even though it was disgusting. I loved watching you put on that cheap cologne that could probably kill someone. The first day I realised that you were truly my husband was the best and worst day of my life. I'm so sorry, Percival. I had never had someone be so kind to me before. I wish I had the courage to have told you the truth, but I couldn't raise them with you. I could never love them the way that you love people. Do you remember that I told you that there was something so pure about you? It was that pure unconditional love that you had for me. You didn't even know me, but you loved me. But could you love me? When I've hurt you the way I have? But I love you. I_

That was how it ended, and Percy felt sick. Christopher Fearn raped his wife. Christopher Fearn, a bloody criminal, had his daughters in his flat right now halfway across London. The thought of them touching him with those hands made his blood boil. Percy reread the letter so many times, and he felt terrible. He had been right about her. And he wished that he wasn't. Percy wished that she'd betrayed him. He wished that she was unhinged and that she'd been conning him all this time because this hurt him more than anything ever would. Along with this letter was a stapled discharge paper from the hospital where she'd gone to after she'd been raped. Reading it made his skin crawl.

Percy had always bought her fresh flowers, but he didn't today. The vase had flowers from a month ago, already dead.

"Lucy," Percy's throat hurt. No wonder Dominic hated his daughters so much. No wonder they all hated him.

What a cruel world. The woman he had been mourning for five painstaking years had loved him back, but they'd never gotten a chance to indulge in their feelings for each other. The cold hard reality of the situation hit him. Even dead, he still loved her. He could see Candace's face in front of him. Did they know that he wasn't Christopher? Did they not care? Did they just not want anyone else hurting their beautiful, beautiful little girl? How could anyone accept the death of an eighteen-year-old girl that had been raped and then died during childbirth? How was that fair?

Percy's heart felt like it had been shattered. "Lucy, why?" he asked. He'd known all along. Somewhere deep inside him had always known. Even when everyone told him, even when he felt betrayed, he still loved her.

Crumbling the paper in his hand, he managed to transport himself to the Ministry.

He was on the lift over at the third floor. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He had to see him.

He didn't feel well. His heart was racing so much that he couldn't calm himself down with a spell if he tried. He could barely see; his vision was blurry, and he was seeing double. He pulled up his trousers, wondering when he'd lost enough weight that his tight trousers felt loose on him. He was sweating through his shirt and was so hot that he felt like he was suffocating in the elevator. By the time that the door opened, Percy could barely move.

Godric, he really needed to use the lavatory. He was sure that he was making himself ill again, but he didn't care.

Before he walked into Christopher Fearn's office, he paused a little and then closed his eyes. What was he going to do now? Confront him about what he'd done? Demand that he get his children back? Percy thought carefully about what to do now. He couldn't think of a single answer to his problems. Everyone in the Ministry hated him. This letter from Audrey was the last thing that he'd ever have from her and he couldn't keep it. He went to his office, and then in handwriting that didn't resemble his own, he wrote an owl. He placed Audrey's letter and discharge paper in the envelope. You'd think he'd bother sending them the Wizengamot, but he wasn't. He sent them straight to The Daily Prophet. He was sure that Skeeter's clones would lap up the owl. This was going to be a huge storyline tomorrow.

After he sent the letter, Percy felt exhausted. But he went to the flower shop and bought a large bouquet of gardenias to put in the vase in Audrey's flat. By then, it was very late at night. He bet his family was worried about him.

Before he apparated back to the Burrow, he sat in her couch for a while and then he started crying for a woman that he loved, that he'd lost, and that he felt like he'd lost a little more each day. Every day, he felt like he knew something new about her. Percy wondered how it was like where she was. He wondered if he knew how much he still loved her. She had been right. There was a big black hole in him. With a wrecked body, he picked up the keys to her flat, and the book that she'd been reading when she wrote that letter. Percy took a deep breath of her beautiful floral perfume—of the last vestiges of _her_ —as he left the flat, promising himself that this was going to be the last time.


	32. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 6

_comment replies (which i haven't done in forever!):_

 _ **froggiegreen963** : i think Percy might have another heart attack if someone steals his kids for them...but at the same time, appreciate it. i can't imagine Percy not following protocol even if it means worrying himself to death! though i can definitely imagine Fred and George thinking about it... hmm. though now, i think their priority is making sure that Percy is fine, and the girls secondarily. i think they just think of the girls are something that's Percy's rather than people they're related to since they haven't spent so much time with them! if that makes any sense?_

 _ **Guest:** i love making people's heart ache for Percy. it's my favourite thing to do!_

 _ **Baelorfan** : they definitely wouldn't care to expose Fearn on the basis of Audrey being Audrey (a muggle!). the Wizengamot definitely would not want to come to the conclusion that they're wrong, especially in a situation that paints them unfavourably (that they had such a very informal decision of the events and skipped the trial process for what could be considered a major event). the only reason that i've made The Daily Prophet care about what Percy has to say is because Audrey at the end of the day is the wife of the junior assistant of the Minister of Magic, and is by proxy, the Minister's daughter-in-law. i've definitely made The Daily Prophet more of a gossip tabloid than an actual paper in this story (if you'd remember the first subplotline where they wanted to cover why Percy was selling Pixie Puffs just straight after the war in the first 4 chapters). the office politics is a pretty interesting thing to think about since it's based mostly on what Arthur and Percy do around each other and very little of what actually goes along the scenes except for implications here and there that The Daily Prophet (and a good proportion of the wizarding world) don't think that Arthur is capable and believe that Percy is covering up for him. so there's a lot of gossip / tabloid rubbish / drama involved in there that's very favourable of them to play into, even if it means having to contradict themselves (which they had already done numerous times during this fanfiction. i.e. believing that everyone should stand with the Minister's decision when it came to the Erumpents versus the Ministry Ball where everyone thinks that he's a crockpot). i think it goes with the public's opinion as much as it does with what they think is going on, i.e. if the public is vouching for the Ministry, should would the paper.  
_

 _as for Christopher Fearn, i know exactly why he does the things that he does... but i'm just not sure how to put it into a story that's so heavily narrated by Percy. i do actually want to explore this eventually as it's such a big plotline and revelation that was only mildly hinted at before but we'll see. but he is very 'got everything he wanted as a child' kind of person with a very profound insecurity complex due to the fact that he's muggleborn when he has such pureblood supremist ideals. he makes due with strong connections in the Ministry despite being muggleborn because he has many relatives in the Wizengamot as an extension and misuses this power. and because he's never been used to being told no, he doesn't know how to react to it. i'll see if i can touch on this more in the upcoming chapters (not in the next few at least). Fearn is definitely going to be an interesting character to write._

 _ **Son of Whitebeard:** he really is! _

_**Pixel and Stephanie Forever** : i think my whole life is taking nice fanfictiosn that don't have any dark images or turns whatsoever and turning them into something dark. i can't help it. this whole fanfiction was supposed to be nice and light but it just kept getting worse because i can't help it! but don't worry about Percy (well, not in this chapter.)  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty-Two: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 6

* * *

When Percy came back to the Burrow that night, it was two in the morning. He had not expected that the second that he walked in and opened the lights, he'd find his whole family staring back at him. He was sure that they must've wet himself. Merlin, he thought those having-trousers-as-soaked-as-a-professor-Quidditch-player were over after he had learned how to avoid Marcus Flint in his third year. Feeling his heart race in his chest, Percy felt all the colour drain out of his face—well, more so than usual. He'd raised two infants at the age of eighteen and just a few days ago, was running a whole country by himself! Did his mum really have to spend her evening waiting up for him to come home?

"Where have you been? Do you know how much you've frightened us?" Molly's voice was filled with concern. She looked like she'd been up worrying about him all night long. But Percy's face was unapologetic. He was not about to tell his mum that he was not going to be doing this again. He was not a fifth year sneaking off to snog his girlfriend in the middle of the night. "Percival, you almost died just a week ago! Do you have any idea how long we've spent searching for you, wondering if you'd just passed out in the middle of the woods on your walk?"

"I've frightened you…?" Percy clutched onto his chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack—well, another one!"

"That's not funny," Molly said, as if Percy had been joking. "Where have you been, young man?"

"Mum, I'm twenty-three years old. I've been living on my own for the last five years. I have children for Merlin's sake. I don't understand why you're so keen to know where I've been!" Percy could not believe that he was answering this. He felt like he was ten and his mum was about to tell him off for riding a broomstick at three in the morning. The day had barely started and already, he was a discombobulated bundle of nerves. He could probably have made Professor Quill look calm and collected. "Besides… you'll read about it tomorrow."

"Read about what?" Bill sounded angry too, as if he couldn't believe Percy would leave the house. Pardon him?

"It'll be an article in the Daily Prophet," Percy whispered. His shoulders were slumped, and he wanted to _sleepsleepsleep_. Then he remembered he'd be in his old room and felt poorly. He didn't want to be there.

Bill cocked his head to one side. "You're a reporter now, are you?" he asked. "Why are you being so secretive?"

"I'm not being secretive!" Percy lied. He was so secretive that he'd lost count of all the secrets he was keeping. He felt like he'd just lost Audrey all over again. How many times did he have to feel the pang of her loss in his chest? How long was he supposed to go on without her? "I just don't wish to talk about this at two in the morning!"

Arthur stood up and walked over to him. He looked tired too. "Talk about what?" he asked.

"My wife, but why would you care?" Percy was panting. He felt weary from the events of the night. It was not every day that you found out that the tragedy that had been plaguing your life for the last five years was even more tragic than you ever thought it was. He was exhausted but he doubted he'd sleep tonight All he could think about was how his beautiful little girls were in a rapist's flat and he felt himself grow nauseous at the thought. Percy's heart was hammering so fast in his chest that he could barely breathe. His skin was clammy and cold. His whole body felt warm.

All he could think about was this big black hole inside of him, swallowing him whole. He could only wish for death.

"You mean the muggle girl that died five years ago?" Charlie asked him, and Percy nodded his head, still sweating. They thought so lowly of her. "The one that lied to you for your face because she couldn't be bothered to raise someone else's daughters? Godric, Percy, what else could you possibly tell us about her that we don't already know?"

"Who gave you the right?" Percy had his sweaty hands balled into fists. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!"

Charlie had practically jumped up from where he was sat at. Ron, who had been dozing off, woke up.

"But Percy, she…" Ginny's voice was sweet as honey and ordinarily, would've bee enough to calm him down.

"None of you understand what she was to me!" Percy felt tears fill his eyes. He was so sodding tired of crying twenty-four-seven. He pulled his old grey trousers up because they'd been slipping off his hips from how much he was sweating through his shirt. He smelled his armpits just over an hour ago just to make sure that he didn't smell like one of Fred and George's manky, old underpants. "But you'll just have to read about it in the paper. I don't see what the point is of letting anyone else know about it before besides making everyone else feel 'involved'."

"You really want to read whatever it is you have to say on a paper? Along with everyone else?" Bill asked coldly.

Percy knew that it was a very cruel thing to imply but he didn't care. "Why? Would you feel extra special to know today?" he asked, his shoulders stiffening. He couldn't believe that his daughters ate the same bread and marmalade that Christopher Fearn did. He couldn't believe Fearn helped them put their shoes on. He hated himself for it. "If I tell you know that Audrey had been raped by Christopher Fearn, would it change anything? Would it magically make my daughters appear before me? Would it change that they'd shared a room with him for two weeks now?"

If they knew that Audrey was raped today or tomorrow, what difference did it make? Percy wanted to sleep, and float away in a universe where all these problems weren't real. He wanted to wake up and have all of this to just go away.

There was a moment of silence before he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. Percy looked up at Arthur, a man that he had so much contempt for in the last few weeks. After his heart attack and nearly dying in the intensive care, they hadn't really had a talk. Percy was on enough potions to open up an apothecary, and he still felt unwell. Percy might not be in any immediate threat of suddenly collapsing and dying but life seemed so dark and bleak. What was the point anymore? If it wasn't for his daughters, he would be happy being dead. Why should he bother otherwise?

"How about we sit down, and we talk about this?" Arthur asked. In that moment, those were the right words to say.

"It's very late," Percy replied, as if that made a difference. He didn't think he'd ever wanted to talk to his father, whether it was two in the afternoon or two in the morning. What could they possibly have to say to each other after all that had happened between them? They were both too far gone. "I'm tired. I would like to sleep."

"Are you really going to go to sleep?" Arthur asked him and Percy knew that Arthur had won this time around.

"Fine," Percy said, placing his hands into his pockets. He hated these clothes and he wanted to get out of them badly.

Percy didn't think that he would feel any better. After they started sharing a pot of tea with his family at two in the morning, he explained to them about Audrey's flat. He was embarrassed to admit that he'd been paying for a flat for the last five years because he wouldn't pay a single Galleon for a new pair of plimsolls for himself. Percy mentioned cleaning it every week. He felt so pathetic he didn't even look up to see his parents' or his siblings' facial expressions. He mentioned the fresh flowers. The last ones had been these beautiful blushing red roses. And then when he was sure that he had bored them to death with his faux romance story, Percy mentioned the letter and the discharge papers from the hospital. Percy mentioned going to the Ministry because he knew that Christopher worked late. He mentioned sending the letters and papers to The Daily Prophet, and then coming back home to be interrogated.

There was a moment of silence between them. Percy sipped his tea. He had put so many lumps of sugar he was sure the healers would be more worried about his blood sugar than his thyroid.

There were a few minutes of silence. His father was squeezing his hand and smiling at him warmly.

"I was always under the impression that you hated me, Percival," Arthur said and broke Percy out of his thoughts—or rather his lack of. He was just staring into space, completely confused by what was happening around him. Oh, and there it was again. Percival. He supposed he was perpetually Percival to his father now. "I always felt like I was not good enough for you. When I used to send you owls in your first years, you sent me back my letters battered in red quills. When I made a mistake about the dates of the Chinese dragon debacle in 1964, you sent me back the letter with resources I could read. When you said all those things you had during the fight, I…I was angry. I didn't know how you could think so little of me after all I had done for you. I was sure that your mum spoiled you so much because you'd gotten picked on so much at home and at school and that made you into this impossible person to be around—"

"I am not impossible to be around," Percy cut straight into that. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could.

"Really, Perce?" George looked at him with a hardened expression. "You're not impossible to be around?"

And then there was another few moments of silence. Percy surveyed the table. Even his mum was trying not to look at him, she agreed with the fact that he was difficult to deal with. Percy was sure if Daphne was there, she'd be glaring at him and telling him that reading a book written in Elvish would be easier than figuring out what he wanted.

"I…I was under the impression that you hated me," Percy explained. Arthur looked at him like he was almost shocked to hear this. Percy shared the same sentiment: he didn't know that his father thought that he was not good enough for his own child. He didn't know that Arthur believed that he hated him. "I-I always thought that I was not good enough for you! When I tried to have a conversation with you, I put you to sleep faster than Professor Binns did our class. I felt like because of how my personality is like, you tend to forget how old I was. It felt like all I was what had been what I accomplished. I tried to earn your attention with my achievements, but it was impossible. For all the times I spent gloating about it, you'd think that I would have some recognition! And when you had the gall to tell me that the Minister wanted me to spy for him, I was insulted. I couldn't believe you thought so little of me that I would…I would betray this family like that. And when we fought and you didn't come to apologise, I was floored. It was the only wrong thing I had ever done, and I felt like nobody would forgive me for it! And after Audrey died, I felt so alone. I couldn't tell anybody. I was terrified. I…I worked from home when Molly and Lucy were infants."

"What?" Arthur looked at him incredulously. Tea had spilled on the spotless kitchen table. "You worked from home? _You?"_

"Yes, I did. And I bought them to work two years after that until the Minister told me that either I saw a healer about it, or I could find another job," Percy said. He closed his eyes, reminiscing about the early mornings where he had one six-month-old Lucy in his lap whilst he used his foot to rock Molly's cot so that she would sleep. He never followed up with that healer after the first visit. "Merlin, can you imagine? They're going to be six in a few weeks. Six!"

"They grow up quick, didn't they?" Arthur had a bemused smirk on his face. Godric, they had something in common.

"Excuse me, but six is much bigger than five," Percy insisted. Molly beamed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sentimental much, Perce?" Fred asked, his hand on the table. "You're even worse than mum is. I bet you bought your poor little girls all that hypoallergic baby wipes because you didn't want to harm their delicate baby skin."

"Well, eczema is a very serious disease," Percy pushed his glasses up his nose. "Do… do you want to see them?"

He'd just realised that they didn't know how they looked like as babies. Percy had taken out his Ministry ID card from his pocket, which he carried around all the time because he was an obsessive freak. He slid out the pictures that he had in between his identity card and a card detailing appropriate classifications of flying memos. Did you know how many wrong red memos that he had received? The Obliviator Headquarters insisted that the chocolate cake they bought for their boss was really 'an urgent expenditure'. Between these two cards was probably a plethora of pictures.

He tossed one of them over at Molly and Arthur, who looked surprised to see two infants back at them.

"Molly was one-point-eight kilos and Lucy was one-point-five," Percy reminisced. He even had a little pink Pixie Puff height and weight chart. He was that one parent that felt like a failure when their infant lost a hundred grams over the month. _Pouf, little baby_. Did you know how small babies were? Did you ever see a hundred grams of chocolate? You could imagine that an infant didn't have a hundred grams on them to lose now, did you?

Ron was snorting. "What did you do the first time your precious little rosebuds threw up on you?"

"Does anyone want any cake?" his mum asked when she opened the fridge. George was salivating now.

What would he do with her heaving Victoria sponge at this hour? "I'd prefer a packet of biscuits," Percy said.

"We know!" everyone else called back to him, bursting into laughter. Percy believed that he'd missed the joke.

But he really couldn't believe that he spent the rest of the night having pleasant conversations with his family.

He'd found out that Ron didn't want to go back to school much to their mum's irritation. Fleur was always tired even when she'd spent the whole day in bed. Ginny and Harry had been together for a couple of months now and Molly had even made them a romantic dinner in the Burrow, although this was more humiliating than anything. How could you really have a romantic dinner with your mum in the house, making sure you didn't have it off with your daughter? Charlie had taken a few months off and spent his time helping out in Diagon Alley's little Herbology shop that just opened. He'd gotten bitten by a bunch of plants more than he had in his whole years of tending to dragons.

Percy was surprised about how much he had told them too in the meantime. He'd told them about the day that he came back home and discovered that his daughters had made an old, heaving couch disappear. After this, Percy believed he had developed an obsession for couches. Too bad he was too poor to afford a new one now!

By the time that the Daily Prophet report had come about, Percy had already started dozing off.

But when he read about it again, the good feelings he'd had from the wonderful talks that he had with his family had just disappeared and he was left feeling miserable. Percy just climbed onto the couch, reading the paper over and over again. How could you write about something so horrible on the paper? How could anyone stomach writing about it?

He owled the Ministry about what the outcome was now. What they were going to do to his daughters. No reply.

This might just be few blocks of ink for the Daily Prophet, but this was Audrey's secret. Now, everyone knew about what happened. _I'm so sorry, Audrey_ , he thought to himself. _But if I didn't, then they would've never let me see them again. You understand, don't you? I know that it's awful, but you're not here anymore and they are. You trust me, don't you?_

Percy hated himself for disgracing her like that. She was not the poor woman that had been raped by Christopher Fearn. She was this five-foot dwarf that he fell in love with overnight. She loved gardenias. She was the girl that went on holiday and was mesmerised by the sandy beaches and hot weathers. If she'd gone into labour in the shop, all she'd worry about the fact that she was not working that night. She was Percy's wife, and she had been even after she'd died. How could you move on after a death like Audrey's? How did you find faith in anything again?

That day was an absolute chaos of reporters at the Burrow doorstep. Percy couldn't pop down for a tin of baked beans without having his life choices being questioned by everyone. He hadn't talked much to his family, and they left him alone for the most part. In the evening, Ron played chess with him, but he could barely focus.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked him after the fifth game that he lost. "You've gotten worse than Harry."

"I'm just thinking about the laundry I have to do in my flat," Percy missed his flat. He missed his clothes.

Ron snorted. "You're afraid your trousers will somehow have more holes when you come back you mean?"

"There are not that many holes in my trousers," Percy replied with a raised eyebrow. He was actually surprised at how little he thought for himself. Now back in his house, he could see how he'd been neglecting himself for the past few years. He had barely been living in his flat, but he was barely living here too. Everyone had been asking him why he wouldn't get up and go and _do_ something instead of being sat in the living room all day, sleeping on the couch. But he was just so tired, and he didn't want to be awake in a universe where he didn't have his daughters right beside him.

Ron snickered. "You couldn't pay me to wear the sodding things."

"How has it been like with Hermione?" he asked, and Ron just rolled his eyes, and didn't bother answering his question. Why would Ron discuss the details of his romantic life with Percy?

"I'm not talking to you about that," Ron responded. Percy might as well be his mum. "How about Exploding Snap?"

"I'm feeling rather tired," Percy replied. He did actually feel exhausted. "I'm just going to bed."

Percy was fluffing his pillows and felt a sadness in his chest. Audrey fluffed her—

"Godric, is that what your life is like? You've been asleep all day!" Ron asked. "No wonder you're so miserable."

"Ron," Percy looked at him with big eyes. "You don't actually mean that," there was no way.

Ron shook his head. "You've been sat on that couch all day, feeling sorry for yourself. How do you expect to get any better? By magic?" he asked, gesturing to Percy's wand which was on the other side of the room. "Seeing you sat here on the couch, sleeping all day, makes _ME_ feel depressed. Do you think that's going to cure you?"

Percy knew that Ron was right but he couldn't bring himself to get out of the couch.

All day, he felt so shockingly depressed, and his family had been acting like he was being unreasonable. He was not miserable because he'd been sleeping all day. He'd been sleeping all day because he felt so miserable. He wished he was dead every time that he opened his eyes and realised that he was in this house. But considering the situation that he was in, Percy thought that he was doing well. How else was he supposed to be coping with the news?

When his mum asked him to come to the table for dinner, Percy just pretended to be asleep. He did eventually sleep straight through dinner. When he woke up, he felt like he was in someone else's home.

But next day, Percy had almost dropped the paper at five in the morning because he did not expect to see the headline.

 _SERIAL RAPIST IN THE MINISTRY?_ Percy read the headline, feeling dizzy as he bought the paper to the couch.

Percy sat down and read the list of names and realised he knew some of them. He'd been with some in school. He remembered laughing with Clarissa Snow in the corridor after the exams. He remembered eating lunch with Mona Blackthorn whilst they were studying for their Potions O.W.L. They were all Ravenclaw muggleborns that had been close mates with Penny. He even remembered some of them being as Penny's muggle friends, smart ones—or even Audrey's friends, like Theodora Lamb and Roselyn White. They all apparently went to the same muggle book club that Christopher Fearn had worked at for years during his teenage years when they'd been growing up in the streets of London. Percy remembered Audrey's letter and felt himself grow hollow. Had Fearn been planning this for ages? How could anyone fantasise about raping women that were discussing Hamlet and Death of a Salesman?

He felt the future go bleak. Even if he got his daughters back and nothing had happened to them, how did you explain to two little girls what their father had done? When did you tell them these things? Honestly, Percy seriously doubted he would find his answers in his _Parenting Without A Wife, Crup Or Copious Amounts of Firewhiskey Instructional Manual._

When his parents found him reading the papers that morning, they didn't disturb him. His mum bought him a plate of toast to eat on the couch, his potions for the day and a teapot to drink from. Percy promptly thanked her.

Nobody approached him for the rest of the day, not even Ron to ask him why he was still on that sodding couch.

By around five in the afternoon when he was sure that he was all alone in the house, Percy read the article for the thousandth time and then felt his heart sink in his chest for another millionth. If he didn't submit that letter yesterday, then the other girls wouldn't have gone up and said anything. How sad was that? Percy couldn't stop thinking about it. He kept reading the description of the characteristic shape of the bruises that he had on their necks, or the way that Christopher had battered some of these women. How could you do that to someone else's daughter? Someone's sister? Someone's friend? Percy just didn't understand.

Percy should've owled Penelope because they were her friends, but he couldn't. And what if it happened to Penelope too but she didn't tell him because she'd been too ashamed? What had been happening to the people he cared for?

"Hey, Perce," Bill joined him on the couch just after Percy refused dinner again because he reverted back to a semi-rebellious fifth year. "It'll be alright," he promised.

Percy looked at Bill like he'd just told him that You-Know-Who was about to be revived for the third time.

"The Ministry that I love so much let a serial rapist take my children away," Percy looked up at Bill, wondering if he would ever get used to what happened to his face. He sometimes wondered if they hurt but he never told anyone because he wouldn't want them to worry. "How is anything supposed to be okay again? What if he…?"

"Perce, I don't think he did," Bill said softly. "He lives with his parents."

"He'd been living with his parents when he'd raped ten women," Percy hissed coldly. "And even if he didn't, how am I supposed to explain this to them? How did they hire such a psychopath in the first place? And…" he paused.

"Hey," Bill moved his hand to Percy's shoulder and squeezed it. "Everyone's worried about you."

"Yes, yes, I nearly died," Percy mumbled but he didn't care. He wished that he did. He would've been perfectly happy dying without knowing that his wife had been wronged so badly, his children weren't safe and that he could do nothing. He had sent so many owls to the Ministry and apparated this morning when he was supposed to be taking a shower instead. He'd screamed and shouted and tried to talk to as many people as possible, but he had no reply.

Everyone looked at him with glossy eyes, like they pitied him. Pitied to see him unravelling like this.

"Well, do you think that worrying yourself like this is going to help anyone?" Bill tried to make him see sense. "Do you want to have another heart attack? Do you know your heart beats aren't even normal, Perce? You could—"

"Do you think that telling me not to worry is going to make myself worry any less?" Percy folded his hands on his lap. "Who, under my very particular circumstances, could possibly calm down? Nobody is telling me anything about what's happening to my daughters, and no matter who I talked to, I have no answers. My father is apparently the Minister of Magic… yet this serves me no purpose whatsoever. And pray tell, what normal human being would be able to relax knowing their five-year-olds are in a psychopath's flat? And you, legally, could not do anything about it until the Wizengamot trial that everyone is so valiantly preparing for? Because after all, these are just _allegations?"_

Percy just looked at his lap. He was sure that this was how rock bottom felt like. Where could he go from here?

"I'm sorry, Perce," Bill said in all honestly. "Fred, George and I have tried our best and—"

"What if this was your daughter?" Percy asked and Bill just went white. Percy knew that he shouldn't have said that, because Bill was having a baby and he was already nervous enough as it was without bringing up a gigantic topic like this. "Honestly, Bill, just leave me alone."

Bill did leave him alone after that, and Percy wanted to apologise to him, but he didn't find it in himself.

He woke up at some point in the middle of the evening because he could hear his mum telling everyone else, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with him." Percy knew that Molly was talking about him. She was walking around the house and he could hear the pitter-patter of those awful slippers she still wore. "It's like he's fading away."

How nice would that be? Was all that Percy could think about right then. To just fade away?

"Just let him do what he wants," Ron replied back to her. "It's not like the git will listen to anything anyone else has to say. It's like he wants to be miserable." Percy couldn't blame him, because he did. He did want to be miserable.

Because he felt like that was what he deserved. He was so lost, and he wished that he could explain how he felt like.

A day after that, Percy was in the Wizengamot court again. The whole court was livid because there had not been an appropriate trial the first time around. There were so many reporters that Percy was afraid to move in case someone asked him what he'd had for breakfast on the day that Christopher Fearn was being prosecuted. It had become a very coveted event, even more coveted than the Ministry Ball. All day, Percy felt scared and jittery. He was… not well.

He was twenty-three-years-old, back to living at home and yesterday evening, his mum had given him a pair of new robes to wear to court! He felt like he was back in school. Percy wanted to leave the Burrow as soon as possible.

Arthur reached out to hold his hand and squeeze it. He looked surprised at how hot and sweaty Percy was.

"Percy?" Arthur looked at him with a softened expression. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Percy shook his head. "Look at what he did to them," he said in a tearful voice. "Look."

The bastard Christopher hadn't even bothered combing Molly's hair. Lucy's shoelaces were not tied. They didn't look like themselves. Molly was rubbing her eyes because she was tired. Lucy looked smaller than she was before. Percy didn't not care how the case would go. He would rather end up in Azkaban for stealing back his daughters than have them go on like this. Percy couldn't even begin to describe how many holes were in Molly's sunny-coloured tights.

Percy felt his hands shake because he couldn't take how they looked like. He was sweating and his heart was racing, and he felt just as ill as he did when he was in the hospital ages ago. But he was fine, wasn't he?

"Percy," Arthur grabbed his hand and looked very distressed. "Percy, you're sweating."

"It's… it's a very hot room," was Percy's excuse, trying to push his father's hand away. All he could think about was all the things that had happened to him: from Audrey's death, to having to take care of two babies, to working for his father, to barely sleeping and barely existing, to having his daughters taken away from him, to discovering the truth about Audrey's death to this day here in the court room and the more he thought, the faster his heart sped.

Arthur turned to Bill and he was telling him something, but Percy couldn't hear. His mind was fuzzy.

"Percy, do you want some water?" Bill asked him, and Percy just shook his head. He felt nauseous. His stomach hurt.

He felt his heart beating fast in his chest, and his heart beats were not exactly regular but that was fine, wasn't it? He had something called 'atrial fibrillation' from his sky-high thyroid hormone levels. Percy hadn't a daftest what that meant.

He didn't know what he'd been doing in the last few days. He didn't sound like the father of two almost-six-year-olds. He was living back in his house because his parents were afraid for his sanity. He refused to sleep in his own bed in case fifteen-year-old Percy decided to use his Time Turner to throttle his twenty-three-year-old self in his sleep. Second, he was fidgeting around like a first year that was about to go into Snape's Potions classroom and all his siblings were looking at him like he was about to collapse and end up in the hospital again.

"Percy?" Ron was sitting on the edge just next to him, obviously noticing the fact that his robes were damp.

"My babies," Percy whispered to himself. He felt like he was about to go mad. How was he going to fix this?

"Percy," he hadn't seen Daphne in ages. She was stood there, looking absolutely stunning. "Percy, are you alright?"

"Why is everyone asking me that?" Percy asked. If he wasn't fine, how was he going to take care of his girls?

Everyone looked at each other and it was like they knew something that he didn't. Percy had chewed his nails off and when he asked for coffee, Arthur made sure that it was decaffeinated before he gave it to him. What was he? Two?

He wasn't even listening to the Wizengamot and what was going on. Percy was in his own head, which was racing faster than a Seeker in the Quidditch World Cup. Maybe he was a little too anxious. Maybe he had a problem. Percy couldn't remember if he drank any of the potions that he was supposed to today. He usually had them with breakfast, and today, he didn't bother having any breakfast. He barely slept last night to begin with. But he was fine, wasn't he?

After some time, Arthur grabbed Percy's hand and then actually forced him to stand up and leave the courtroom.

"What's wrong with you?" Arthur asked him the second that they were alone. "Have you taken your potions?"

"No," Percy admitted, placing his hands in his pockets. "I haven't. I—" he'd felt so nauseous, so terrified.

"Merlin, you're just like a bloody child," Arthur told him off, and Percy felt his heart race even more. All he could hear was it beating into his ears and he felt this tingling sensation in his hand. "Honestly, Percival, how long are you going to go on with neglecting yourself like this? Do you know how terrified we were when you were in hospital?"

"You've mentioned it a few times," Percy replied back. "What happened in the hospital happened ages ago and—"

Arthur was shaking his head. "You've barely been living in the house! Even the ghoul isn't as depressing as you are!"

He pushed his father back and he looked at him with hard, tearful eyes. He was so, so sick of crying.

"My daughters are living with a man that raped my wife," Percy's hands were shaking. "Do you want me to be overjoyed? The government that I had so much faith in had decided to sort out a legal process in an hour because they didn't want to be bothered by the press. Do you have any idea what these past few days were like for me?"

Percy looked down at his feet. "I wish I was dead," he admitted. "I wish I died instead of her."

He thought he was having a panic attack. His chest hurt and all he could think about was all the wrong things that had been happening to him for the last five years. When he closed his eyes, all he could think about was that he didn't know what he was doing. He was not good enough. How dare anyone take them away from him?

Arthur's face softened. "Percival, I…" he paused, and then placed a hand on his arm. "Percy, I—"

"Dad!" Molly shrieked, breaking Percy out of his thoughts. She'd escaped the room and Lucy was beside her.

"Molly?" Percy rubbed the tears out of his eyes. This was so embarrassing. His cheeks were hot and red. What was she doing here? He would do anything to whisk them away now and ask them if anything had happened.

"The Aurors asked us questions yesterday and took us away from Mr Fearn," Lucy said excitedly, and Percy's stomach dropped because he didn't know what in Merlin's name they'd asked them. Why hadn't they told him that they'd been removed from Fearn's house when he'd gone to the Auror office yesterday? "They took us to the hospital. It was scary, but we're big girls now. We're going to be six years old in two weeks! Did you get us presents?"

"The hospital?" Percy felt numb and broken. "What were you doing in the hospital? What did they say?"

"Oh! Nothing!" Molly pulled out her rucksack and then showed him the report. "We have the report for the judge!"

All Percy could see was that they'd been examining his daughters, his _infants_ , for vaginal tears. Even if there was nothing, even when he realised that they had been completely fine and nothing had happened to them, Percy hated himself for letting them be in this position to begin with. What perfectly normal parent let this happen? With a shaky hand, he put the report down and noticed it just then. A little tiny bruise in Lucy's wrist.

"This is from opening a chocolate frog pack!" Lucy explained. "I banged my hand against the table."

Percy opened his mouth to say a word, but there were no sounds. All he could think about was what if she was lying _what if what if what if_ and then… after that? Well, he supposed he should've taken his potions that morning. His legs gave way and he found himself unable to talk. And he knew in that second that not only did he have a heart attack two weeks ago, he had somehow given himself a fucking stroke at the ripe age of twenty-three. He knew even before Arthur dropped down and shook his shoulder. He couldn't talk. He...how was he supposed to go back to court like this? What was going to happen to them?

* * *

 _i feel like i want to explain why these very two traumatic things happened even though it will be explained in the next chapter anyway. Percy has hyperthyroidism that had been complicated by a thyroid storm due to extreme stress (which is very rare i know, as thyroid storms are very rare). the heart is working so fast that it leads to reduced oxygen supply, which can precipitate a heart attack. Percy recovered from this incident, but a) has not been taking care of himself and b) refuses to take his medication in another high stress situation. part of hyperthyroidism is the presence of atrial fibrillation, which are fast heart beats are that irregular and non-sychronised. this leads to formation of clot in the left atrium due to blood stagnation. the clot can dislodges itself into the brain giving rise to a stroke. so in essence, i did give Percy two very dramatic, very horrible events in a short deal of time, precipitated by stress and a single condition i.e. hyperthyroidism._


	33. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 7

_after this segment, i.e. 'I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge', i'm toying with the idea of skipping far into the future with Molly and Lucy older and in Hogwarts, but i'm not sure about this yet. i have started writing it, and will edit as i go along. either way, i have the same plotlines with or without the time skips, but the content will vary slightly and the relationships, etc._

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty-Three: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 7

* * *

Percy was staring at his healer, who had been showing off her juvenile art class techniques for the past hour.

"The high thyroid levels cause something called atrial fibrillation," she explained for the fiftieth time. She'd drawn a schematic diagram of a heart that looked more like a Quaffle that had been assaulted by the Beater's bat. "You see, your heart is made from circuits—and once one is activated, it activates the next, but it needs that impulse to be transmitted from point A to point B. You can't get to Hogwarts without a train, can you? Well, not you, Ron Weasley, I've heard all about the flying car from that issue's _Quibbler_ —it was a sensational issue…but well, you usually can't get to Hogwarts without a train. Or a flying car. So, these circuits help you go from one destination to the next, but because his heart is beating so quick, the timings are all off so the train gets a little confused and wonky because it doesn't know whether to go at impulse number one or impulse number thirty or impulse number sixty-eight. So sometimes there's a little delay… like it always does when the train station doesn't know what the schedule is. And the blood in the chamber doesn't move right because of the delay, and when blood doesn't move right, it forms a clot. And that clot can go to the brain and can give you a stroke. So, that's how your son—you know, had a stroke."

They were sat in the emergency room with Percy staring at them with glossy blue eyes.

"A stroke," Arthur repeated disbelievingly, standing there with as much colour as Molly's wedding dress robes. "My son had a heart attack two weeks ago from a thyroid storm, and now, he has a _stroke_. At twenty-three."

The healer flinched a little at the disbelief and coldness in Arthur's voice. Molly was so pale she matched the walls.

"Yes, well," she turned to look down at his frame. "I don't think there are many people in the world that have to help you run a country, Mr Minister. It doesn't help raising children so young and have to handle a custody battle in the middle of all this stressful reformation—which you're doing great at, but I do have some points to make about trains if you'd like to listen to it…? And I know that you must realise that the stress that he has in his life is enough to make anyone mad, isn't it? Well, and I suppose that having high thyroid levels, which makes you anxious, doesn't help when you're already diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and have not been taking treatment for it."

"Generalised anxiety disorder," Arthur repeated stoically. "A _disorder_ ," he looked absolutely floored.

Molly ran her hand through Percy's hair. Meanwhile, he wondered if he could request another healer, because he was afraid of getting another stroke again with her blathering off information at the rate of a…very fast train apparently.

"Don't worry, love," Molly said with a voice as soft as Daphne's favourite cashmere scarf. "We'll take care of you."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "Merlin, you just couldn't calm down, could you? What's wrong with you?"

Percy opened his mouth to speak but then realised he couldn't. So, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

" _WELL!_ How are you doing, Percy?" the healer asked him animatedly, only for him to shake his head. She must have taken a bottle of Felix Felicis because if he could talk, she would wipe that ecstatic look off her face. Godric, he was sure she was a Hufflepuff. Or a Slytherin, because she looked like she was happy that he had no blood supply to his gigantic brain. "What a shame. Can you move your right leg for me? No? Oh… I'm sorry about that. But don't worry, you're going to receive the best care possible. Your heart rate is normal now, but your blood pressure is a little high. Percy, are you hypertensive as well? Oh… that's funny! I just measured it again and it seemed to have gotten better now that the room is quiet. If you like quiet rooms, we can always take you into room number twelve…"

 _Darling_ , Percy thought to himself. _You said it yourself. I've had a stroke. Do you think I can move my right leg? Do you really believe that I am capable of doing things that classify one as having a stroke in the first place?_

"Percy, can you… can you move anything?" Bill asked, moving towards him. Percy slowly nodded his head, and then moved his left arm. He moved his left leg to cross over his right. Bill gestured towards the right side of his body, which was paralysed. "Percy, what about this?" Percy didn't move an inch. "Perce, you _can_ move this, right? You can?"

"No, he can't, Bill!" Ginny looked angry at Bill, like he'd failed an exam. Or you know, done something equally as horrific. Like um… you know, become a Death Eater. "Some of his brain died or something."

"You'd think with a head that gigantic; he'd have parts of his brain that aren't important," Fred mumbled.

"You know like that part of him that overreacts and obsesses over everything?" George offered. "I bet poor Perce is dying over there, not able to correct our grammar and tell us that he wants to be left alone to wallow in his misery."

Pardon him. Not every thought he had in his mind was related to his obsessive nature, thank you very much.

"I bet he's depressed that he won't be able to write a report and get off at the same— _OW!"_ Fred shrieked.

He looked back at Percy, who was had pinched his arm with his not-completely-paralysed-and-dead hand.

"You deserve that," Bill said, looking at him with a steely expression. "Do you think that this is the right time to joke? Our newly mute brother has had half of his body paralysed in fucking seconds and you're talking about _reports?_ You do know that he's in this position because our father managed to stress him out to the point where he had a heart attack, yes? Do you want to kill him off too? The last thing he needs to think about is the fucking office."

Arthur winced at Bill's tone. "Bill…has a point," he decided to say stiffly. "Percy? Hey, I want… to talk to you."

Right now, Percy wished that he could just prop up his pillow a little or tell someone to do it for him. Merlin. Percy Weasley. Unable to fix his pillow without help. Why didn't they teach Legilimency in school? In case one of your brothers had a stroke and needed pillow-plumping? He knew that he'd said that his mind was his most prized position, but he also would like more than one arm and leg. Merlin, when he left here, he better be able to polish his Prefect badge by himself! You know, which he still did as, um… stress relief. Not because he was obsessed or anything. He really didn't care about it. But you know, he had a lot of stress… it almost killed him—literally so…

Merlin, how long was he staying? His nurse was burly troll-sized bloke. He wasn't giving him a shower, was he?

"A stroke. Godric, Percy, a fucking stroke," Arthur looked stunned that they'd come to this. "And now, you're…"

 _Disabled, father?_ Percy felt numb. Even with magic, he wouldn't be able to lift his arm out of the bed without assistance.

"You can't talk at all? You can't…" Arthur lifted Percy's chin up so that he could look at him. Percy just blinked at him; his mouth clamped shut because he was not going to try talking when all he made as much sense as a class with an intoxicated Trelawney. _The Daily Prophet_ was already having a field day without having to add fuel to the fire. "Percy, I'm so sorry about the row. I _am_ a daft old fool that needs your help… and-and never in my worst nightmares did I expect that something like this could happen to you. You must understand that I didn't mean for these things to happen…well, though I'm sure that you know that, don't you? You know that I have your…best interests at heart."

"Best interests at heart?" Daphne groaned in irritation. "No, Mr Weasley, you had _your_ best interests at heart."

"I…I suppose that I did," Arthur confessed. "Don't worry, Percy, we'll take care of you. I promise," he insisted.

 _Take care of me?_ Percy was seriously offended. What were they going to do? Change his nappy? _I'm a grown man!_

By the way, Percy did not know yet if he had to use nappies. He did not need to go to the bathroom yet, but the healers might suspect that he might not be able to 'control himself.' The thought of having to be put on nappies at the age of twenty-three made him view the world in a different light. They didn't even know if he could swallow!

Well, he supposed that his family didn't have to worry about him finishing off the biscuit tin anymore…

He didn't know why Arthur was surprised that he'd had a stroke. Percy had always been older than his years, but he didn't think he'd perfect his premature aging quite this well. Percy was in disbelief as they explained to him about a clot in his wonky, pathetic heart blocking the blood supply to brain. Merlin, what was next? Parkinson's at the age of twenty-four? A feeding tube by twenty-five? Osteoporosis by the age of twenty-six? A gigantic prostate at twenty-seven? If he could talk, he'd probably tell his parents to put him in a nursing home already.

"Percy?" Daphne's voice was softer than the velvety robes that she was wearing. "Percy, can you hear me?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. _I can't talk,_ his expression told her. _I'm not deaf._

"You atrocious, foolhardy Gryffindor," Daphne placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with glossy eyes. "I'm sorry, Percy," she said, only for Percy to shake his head. He didn't realise that she was the one that gave him the thyroid problem in the first place, and he wasn't blaming his mum either, was he? "I can't believe I missed how sick you were…I mean _again_. Godric, how did you get a stroke in three seconds? You were literally just fine before."

"Well, the point of strokes is that they happen suddenly," the healer said. "Percy, do… you want to try and talk?"

He shook his head. Percy was not going to attempt to talk again no matter how many chocolate biscuits his family bribed him with. Just an hour ago, he tried to tell one of the nurses that he wanted to blanket because he was sure that his limbs had frozen off, but whatever cacophony of degenerative troll speak he managed to spew out was embarrassing. He sounded like he'd eaten one of Fred and George's Two-Tonne Toffees! Percy was so mortified at his sudden disability, particularly when he spent the day pointing at woolly-looking blankets across the ward.

Percy was sure that it was a cruel joke that he couldn't move his right hand. He hated himself for not taking the ambidextrous writing course that Penelope told him would be a waste of his time.

"Love, why don't you try just a little?" Molly soothingly asked. "Maybe you'll find that you're able to talk now."

Percy shook his head in disbelief. Then he remembered how he ended up here in the A&E again with a stroke. How could forgot?! He spent so much bloody time worrying about the fact that he might not ever be able to walk or sleep again that he had forgotten the fact that he might lose his daughters to a psychopathic maniac and he had no idea how this was going to reflect on the court and on top of that, he didn't know if he was going to be able to have them now that he had a stroke because he was disabled and Percy knew how disability was seen in the Ministry and—

"Percy?" the healer placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her with vacant blue eyes. He was like a buffet for Dementors. He felt as hollow as an Easter chocolate bunny… well, not counting those weird vanilla-cream-filled ones they sold over at Honeyduke's. "You look pale and your heart rate is sky-high. We'll give you a calming draught but try to relax, alright? You do know that this is what's given you a stroke in the first place? And your heart attack? How about we get the nurse to get you a cup of tea and you could try and blow some steam off? Get it? _Steam?"_

Percy had now developed an intense hatred for trains and wished they'd all spontaneously combust.

"What's wrong now?" Ron asked,, looking annoyed at Percy for being so bloody anxious all the time. "Merlin, do you want to kill yourself, you stupid git? Can you sit down for one second without having a meltdown?"

"Ron, that's enough," Molly looked at him with a pointed expression. "Your brother is physically and mentally ill."

 _Thank you, mum?_ Percy thought mindlessly. Really, with how Ron spoke, it was like Percy wanted panic attacks.

With his sole functional hand, Percy picked off his Ministry ID from the table only to receive a well-earned glare from Ron. Maneuvering around awkwardly, he practically annihilated it trying to get to the picture of his beautiful little girls. After five minutes of fiddling with it, he'd taken a picture of the twins and then thrust them at a very unsuspecting Charlie, who practically had a coronary. Percy watched him stare the picture, his eyebrows furrowed momentarily before he realised what was going on. "Perce," Charlie said softly. "Perce, they're okay."

Percy just kept shaking his head, feeling his heart beat a little quicker. How could they be okay?

 _Yes, they're just fine_ , Percy thought bitterly. _It isn't like they were living with an absolute psychopath for two weeks…_

"You want to see them?" Bill asked, and Percy remembered the conversation that they had before his cheeks coloured in. About how Bill would feel like if his poor unborn daughter was ever in his children's positions. He just slowly nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the ground so that he did not embarrass himself further. Fortunately for him, having a stroke two weeks after a heart attack made people very considerate around you. "They're outside."

Outside? Percy gawked at them and felt the pain in his chest suddenly replaced by warmth.

"Yeah," Ginny decided to say. "That geriatric caretaker of yours—you know, Mrs Rosen-something—the one that managed to get to that age without a heart attack or stroke—took them from the court. They're back home with you, Perce. It went really well. They're eating sweets."

 _Sweets?_ Percy raised an eyebrow at them, and then gestured wildly to the clock on the wall.

"The sweets?" Fred asked, only for Percy to nod his head and cross the one arm he could. "Come on, Perce, they just went through a bloody Wizengamot trial! And who are you to talk? You eat sweets at nine in the bloody morning. In fact, I think that's all you eat! That's why you look like a fucking skeleton."

Percy did not dignify that with an answer. He just huffed at them… or tried to.

When he heard their laugh, Percy perked up. His clear blue eyes sparkled like Fleur's gigantic diamond ring.

Daphne walked towards him, placing a hand on his arm. Percy looked up at her, all of his misery suddenly melting away like ice-cream on a hot steamed toffee pudding. Seconds later, excited five-year-old Molly and Lucy ran right in with an exhausted-looking Mrs Rosenstein following them. He knew that he was going to get an earful eventually from that old goat, but he didn't care right now. Percy tried to sit up and Charlie helped him up. Charlie was about as delicate as he'd envisioned an ex-dragon-tamer to be. Percy was sure that he had dislocated his bloody spine!

He opened his mouth to say something and then realised he couldn't. The anticipation ebbed away.

Then it hit him that he might not be able to say his own daughters' names again. How was he going to do their hair with one hand? How was he going to help them slip on their favourite rose-patterned booties?

"Dad!" Molly greeted. "Mrs Rosenstein said that you fell and hit your head! That's so cool! Do you remember us?"

"I'm _LUCY!"_ shrieked Lucy, waving her hands around in the air. "I don't like Pixie Puffs anymore, so don't buy them. Yuck. They're almost vegetarian and have vitamins but they are so evil. Voldemort eats them."

Arthur flinched when Lucy said that name. To her, it was like rattling off the name of villain in the latest copy of one of _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle,_ not the name of a heinous threat to wizarding kind.

"My name is Molly," Molly beamed. "I hate everything! Except…hmm… _you!"_ she squealed excitedly.

All of that worry went away for a second as they climbed up his bed. Little Molly wrapped her arms around his chest, and Lucy was tugging at his good arm, getting him to look down at her. Godric, with the way they were acting, you wouldn't believe they'd been in the house of a psychopath. Percy buried his face into Molly's shoulder and took in her scent. For a moment, he was taken back to 1995. He remembered how they smelled like as fresh newborn babies. You think they would've bottled it up like a scent by now! But Godric, they were already turning _six_ years old this year…

He'd still be in his twenties (just barely!) when they'd go off to Hogwarts. That was how fast they were growing.

Percy leaned backwards, giving them the most serious look on his face possible and then pointed to his cheek.

They recognised the gesture immediately because in seconds, he was attacked by two excited-looking five-year-old girls planting wet kisses on his cheeks. Percy let himself relax for a moment, because his daughters were absolutely normal. They were bubblier than a love potion and seemed to not see hospitals as death chambers. He doubted that they'd be scoffing some of Honeyduke's apple rings if they were sat there worrying about him, would they?

"Dad, Mrs Rosenstein took us to Honeyduke's, and we got all the sweets!" rambled Lucy. "I know that we're not supposed to have sweets before dinner, but we just won't eat dinner! It's okay, because I have a little tummy ache!"

Molly just stared at him with a confused expression. "Why aren't you talking to us? Are you upset?"

Percy shook his head, smiling a little as he ran his hair through her big red Unruly Thing. If he'd try to comb through that hazardous wasteland that Molly dared to care her curls these days, he'd probably lose his comb in it!

"Dad?" Lucy's eyes widened. "Did a naughty Cornish pixie steal your voice to use as a way to irritate you just like they did in my issue of _Loony Nonby v.s. Cornish Pixie?_ Are they going to use it as a quest for world domination?"

Percy just offered her a watery smile. How many bloody comic books did she read for Merlin's sake?

"Sweethearts, listen to me," Daphne leaned down a little to their eye-level, with a gentle smile on her face. "Your father got sick and he can't talk anymore. He might not be able to move his arm or walk much anymore… at least the healers don't know when he's going to get any better." Percy thought that the point of having an assistant explain everything to his daughters was to make everything sound like a pile of rainbows. Daphne was about as ecstatic as Snape was when he was marking one of his essays on the hundred and fifteen uses he found for dittanies.

Lucy looked pale and horrified. "But how are we going to reach the top shelf? _IT'S SO HIGH I'M GONNA DIE!"_

 _Don't worry, love. Daphne will get them for you_ , Percy eyed Daphne, who was five-foot-eight or nine, and towered over him because her heels could probably kill an unsuspecting vampire.

"It's okay," Molly stared at Daphne's shoes too. "We can wear big shoes like Daphne! Isn't that right, dad?"

Where did she find these? Did Ollivander make them? They were longer than some wands for Godric's sake.

Daphne noticed Percy eying her shoes. Oh, and little Molly eying her shoes because Percy was eying her six-inch heels. "Godric, why are you looking at my shoes? Are you sure you're not bent?" she mumbled. "You notice what I'm wearing more than the other bitchy assistants in other departments…more than even _I_ do!"

There was a collective laugh, but Percy noticed that his daughters were looking at him with those big eyes.

"Can we leave the hospital? I want silver robes and I don't have any!" Molly reminded him. Percy was sure she did.

"Oh, and Dad, I want a new toy," Lucy told him, probably going through withdrawal now that nobody had bought her anything for the past three days. He flushed deeply because he was sure his parents would be appalled knowing how often he took them to Diagon Alley to buy things. They each had more robes than the whole Burrow did. She pouted at him, and then said, "I want a toy _TRAIN!_ Trains are the best! I want to be a train conductor when I grow up and…"

At around an hour later, they came to help with his swallowing assessment. Percy choked on mashed potatoes and nearly died, so he supposed that he was on a liquid diet until further notice. He was absolutely livid.

Twenty-three years old and he couldn't even eat anymore! His mum was horrified when he'd started choking and they had to feed him water to help the potatoes go down. They were the most watery, disgusting potatoes that Percy could eat, and they stuck to his throat like glue. His mum had left the room, sobbing her heart out. What was Christmas dinner going to be like with him awkwardly trying to open the lid off his Wizard's Ensure, Butterbeer Flavour?

Speaking of which, they had given him his first bottle of Wizard's Ensure that night. He'd read the ingredient listing before he chugged it odwn. Lovely. Percy Weasley, heart attack and stroke survivor, almost died because nurses gave him peanut-laced nutritional drinks.

Anyway, the rest of the day was uneventful. Well, besides the odd nightmare where Percy woke up in a fight because all he could see was the Hogwarts Express (he had no idea where that had come from!). He still couldn't talk and was discharged a few days later on a wheelchair that was about as temperamental as one of his mum's orange-chocolate souffles. He did not have any more palpitations at the time, and he supposed that was because he was on his antithyroid potions and was drinking enough calming draughts to sedate a Norwegian Ridgeback. As he packed, he was happily going about his own business until Charlie Weasley walked into the room and announced himself as Percy's new unlisted carer.

Wonderful. His dragon tamer brother thought that he was an invalid that needed his love and attention.

Percy was sure that he wasn't helping when he tried to figure out his wheelchair that day. It was about as moody as Daphne Greengrass in a party where she and Pansy Parkinson were wearing the same dresses. You'd think that a woman of her stature wouldn't be bothered by such unimportant things, but she was. That night when she'd wheeled him back home, she leaned down and said, "I think you looked very good in Slytherin green," and kissed his cheek.

He supposed the flushing feeling and the heart palpitations that he got after she said that was from his thyrotoxicosis, yes?

Currently, however, he didn't have to worry about feeling warm or sweating through his clothes. The flat was constantly freezing. How did Charlie work around dragons if he couldn't function when the flat was above 0 degrees?

That evening that they came back home, Charlie was stood there in his Quidditch pyjamas, making coffee.

"Dear, I can perfectly look after both of them without your help," Mrs Rosenstein said the second that she walked into the flat, after she told him off for not taking care of himself. She was rooting through her purse and then smiled as she produced a brochure. "Oh, Percival! There's this magical rehabilitation centre that my mum went to after she had her stroke! Of course, she was ninety-five at the time…but you know that she still battled in the second wizarding war! Could hold a wand, fire off spells, ward off Death Eaters…shame that she died of that double-pneumonia."

 _Double pneumonia?_ Percy reiterated to himself. _What would bacteria want to do with a ninety-five-year-old lady with the lungs of a chimney sweep? Couldn't they find better housing accommodation?  
_

"I'll take him tomorrow to this rehabilitation centre," Charlie replied. He looked even sterner than he did when he marched down Diagon Alley for dragon rights. "Listen here, you old goat, I'm sure you're used to taking care of his kids, but I'm in charge around here now. Why don't you go make friends with a vampire so you could discuss coffin shopping?"

"Why I've never been so insulted in my life! Where does Percy find you characters from? I really doubt that you're his brother. As if Percy would ever talk to me in this manner!" Mrs Rosenstein yelled, which Percy honestly doubted. "I know that I shouldn't tell you this, Percival but you've become so much more likeable now. You usually have such impossibly high standards. I never did understand why the girls had such regimented structures! I'm sure that there are Aurors out there with more flexible timings… and I was always glad to come in and see you don't have a crup. I can only imagine you sat there, being frustrated that your pet is wasting its potential by lying around the flat all day instead of learning how to fend off Dementors… oh and I've heard that you thought you were an alcoholic! Because of two glasses of wine you drink! I drink that much for brunch!"

Percy was already done with today. He was beginning to wonder if he could just crawl back into the womb.

"My brother is more likeable now that he's disabled?" Charlie mumbled incredulously. He had put down his cup of coffee and made another one for Percy that was sweet enough to kill him. "You're a bloody witch!"

As he said that, Charlie moved towards Percy and then huffed on the coffee to try and cool it down. Percy cringed internally because he didn't want to imagine Charlie's spit in his coffee. Arsehole. Charlie put it down on the table, and with his good hand, Percy picked it up to sip. He took a few sips at a time so that he didn't choke, which was what the nurse recommended. Merlin, you'd think they'd just let him live on the bloody non-recycled NG tube.

Percy was starving. This liquid diet was killing him internally. He was so sick of drinking things.

He watched Charlie make himself a sandwich and felt his stomach grumble. He felt so faint, and it didn't matter how much sugary coffee or cream of something soups with incinerated particles he consumed, he was still ravenous.

Charlie produced a cheese and tomato toastie that smelled like it had was straight out of a café. As Charlie bit into it, he noticed Percy staring at him with longing eyes. He must have felt for him, because he broke off a piece on the end – just the tiniest bit – and then fed it to Percy. He chewed it very slowly, trying to savour the taste. But when he tried to swallow, he started coughing and then managed to vomit everywhere. He supposed Charlie was not going to be feeding him anymore pieces of bread. Embarrassed, Percy didn't say anything as Charlie used a quick cleaning charm and then wiped Percy's mouth away with a tissue. Percy was seriously flustered.

"Merlin, Perce," Charlie said after eying the teeny-tiny corner that he'd torn off for Percy. It was shocking that he couldn't eat that without choking on it. It was a microscopic bloody particle, _and_ he'd chewed it too!

Realising how absolutely terrifying it was not to be able to do much on his own, he felt ashamed. Percy didn't want to depend on someone else to be able to go to the bloody bathroom, or to reach the top shelf. He had two daughters to take care of and was finding this excruciatingly difficult without this-this disability malarkey. Daphne came around to have a strict talk with him, telling him that it wasn't like he _chose_ to be disabled. But Percy chose to ignore the fact that he was sizzling under his skin for a whole day. He chose to ignore the pain in his chest when he was in court. He chose to ignore the fact that he had was on the verge of a nervous breakdown at all times.

For the millionth time that day, Percy found himself wondering what Audrey would do if she was here. Was _this_ his split lip now? The thing that made him not able to feed and gave him recurrent earaches to the point of deafening him?

"Hey, hey, Perce, it's alright," Charlie said, noticing the expression on Percy's face. "Come on. Breathe."

He wheeled him away from the kitchen, even though Charlie didn't need to. Percy had a magical wheelchair. It could wheel itself even if Percy had all his four limbs paralysed, but he couldn't find it in himself to muster enough energy to care. Molly and Lucy had fallen asleep the second they'd gotten home, and Percy wished he had it in him to go over and read a bloody bedtime story. Even if they were already asleep and snoring right now.

When Charlie helped him into his bed, it was the last straw before Percy just started crying. He was making the most painful, stupid noises possible, and Charlie leaned down by the edge of the bed, running his hand through his hair.

"Hey, Perce," Charlie's voice was just as soft. "Perce, it's okay," he promised. "You're going to get better."

Percy didn't know why he couldn't stop crying. He felt so bloody stressed even though he was doing nothing productive whatsoever. He felt so alone even though Charlie had been with him all day, telling him that things were going to be just fine! What in Merlin's name was wrong with him? Why was he such a selfish fool? Percy wanted to ask about where Daphne and Grace were, but then heard banging around the kitchen and someone asking for margarine. Percy wished he could convince Charlie that he didn't need a sodding bed. He couldn't believe he, one bloke, was lying on a bed whilst two women shared a sodding couch in the living room!

He kept on shaking his head and burying his head into the pillow, sobbing to himself.

After he managed to dehydrate himself with tears, he tried to turn to the side but couldn't because he was bloody paralysed. Charlie must've noticed because he helped pull him to the side, and then tucked a stray fluffed pillow behind his back. He curled Percy's legs up and wrapped him tightly around a blanket like a cocoon. Wonderful. He couldn't even _sleep_ without assistance. Charlie ran his hand through his own hair and cleared his throat.

He didn't say anything else. Percy tried to sleep but he couldn't really get much sleep the whole night.

At around six in the morning, he was so bloody exhausted he'd actually fallen asleep. Charlie, who had climbed into bed beside him, had already dozed off ages ago and was snoring. When he just about fell asleep, Molly and Lucy ran into the room energetically, tugging at his arms and asking him for a breakfast that he couldn't even make!

Percy nudged Charlie with his hand, watching him slowly open up those bleary chocolate-brown eyes.

"Perce?" Charlie turned to the side and noticed the two happy little Molly and Lucy. "Good morning, you two."

"We are late for breakfast! We have to have it at 6:30—or even before—and now, it is 6:38!" Molly shrieked, as if she would go into famine if she waited eight minutes to eat. She then put her hands on her hips, looking particularly cute in her Honeyduke's decorated pyjamas. She had on mini chocolate button slippers. "Can you tell Charlie…well, you can't tell Charlie… _CHARLIE!_ You are late for breakfast! Our dad is never late for breakfast! Ever!"

"Even dragons don't eat this bloody early," Charlie mumbled under his breath and then glared at Percy.

Percy only offered a weak smile, and then gestured towards the clock. Charlie punched him playfully on the side, which actually hurt. Then he started ruffling through his hair. Merlin, how was he going to comb The Unruly Thing with one hand? Percy wouldn't be able to. Then his hair would grow and grow and then the whole world would die. Pitiful. And it would happen before the next issue of Practical Potioneer came out, he was sure!

"Scones!" Lucy shrieked. " _FRUIT_ scones!" she sounded like she'd spit at Charlie if he bought the chocolate ones.

"Scones?" Charlie replied blearily, looking at Percy. "Well, you don't like scones. How about toast? We can all eat…" he paused because he remembered that Percy could not eat fruit scones, toast, or anything for that matter. "Oh."

Charlie helped Percy onto his wheelchair, and then whizzed past straight into the kitchen. Did you know how unnatural this was for him? Percy was in last night's blue striped pyjamas, his hair ghastly and he probably had his first zit since he was a fifth year. Percy wheeled himself over to his dresser and picked up his favourite comb, which had more features than the latest Firebolt. He patted on his lap, and Molly practically dislocated his knee trying to sit on it. With no reports on his mind, he'd managed to turn Molly's curly hair into a smooth beautiful little orange waterfall. Percy was stunned because he had never managed to tame Molly's hair from 'will eat something' to 'acceptable.' Now, he had her hair, thick and long and straight, in front of him. He did miss the curls though.

"Molly is so pretty!" Lucy was bouncing up and down. "I want hair like _that!_ "

Molly was blushing because she was not used to being complimented on, even after wearing the fanciest robes possible. Percy paused, wondering to himself when the last time he'd actually told them they looked nice? He did dress them up in wonderful little robes and of course they looked nice… but when was the last time he actually said it?

"Dad, am I pretty?" Molly asked, and Percy just nodded his head mutely. Well, he did everything mutely so…

Feeling a renewed sense of purpose, Percy put his comb down and helped gather her hair into a chignon—well, with a little help from Molly. She seemed to understand even wordless instructions. It wasn't that hard when you tapped on her shoulder and then gathered her hair aside now, right? She knew she had to hold it. It was a little sloppy and imperfect but considering that he only had one hand and Molly kept on trying to play with the wheelchair, he did well.

"I want that too," Lucy said, when it was her turn. "And I want it to be with the diamanté clips!"

What in Merlin's name was that? Seeing the dumbfounded look on his face, Lucy went to run into her room. Percy wondered if he should stop buying _Witch Weekly for Girls_. But that morning, Percy felt more relaxed than he did after he dawned down three calming draughts. They came back and showed off which robes they wanted to wear today and happily dressed themselves in their own clothes like the big almost-six-year-old girls they were. They'd managed to slip on their matching black frocks without ruining their hair and put on their new silver shoes by themselves.

They'd even started rummaging around his closet, trying to find something for him to wear.

By the time that Charlie returned back to the flat, face flushed and holding a bag of fruit scones, his daughters were treating Percy like their doll. They'd been fighting over which clothes looked the best but had thrown out most of his clothes in the bin. Percy stared in horror as his children had emptied out his closet, because all his clothes had holes in them and kind of looked gross and old. Charlie laughed when he realised what they were doing.

"I think that your dad needs to go shopping," he said, only for them to nod energetically. "Don't you—blimey, did you do their hair?" he looked at Percy in a surprised expression, only for him to nod his head. "How?"

Percy just flushed. He was sure that Daphne would be demanding that he'd do it again to see, but she was still asleep.

"Shopping! Diagon Alley!" they both screamed out in delight. Molly and Lucy ran down to their room to get the mini purses they always took along with them. Maybe Percy did buy them too many things. After all, maybe two five-year-olds did not need their own mini purses, or muggle-meets-wizard Prada slim-fitted black robes, did they?

He couldn't imagine that they needed twenty-eight varieties of the same dress either. Or diamanté clips.

"Wow," Charlie stroked Percy's hair affectionately. "Perce, you don't need all your limbs to work, do you?" only for Percy to roll his eyes, but he did feel a swell of affection in his chest. "Listen, Perce, about last night…I don't…I can't imagine how it must be like to live in a wheelchair, completely mute like you are, alright? I can't imagine not eating fruit scones with your daughters in the morning—even though you hate those bloody things. But…I…"

Percy looked at him with a softness in his face. Charlie was obviously wishing he went to that articulation course that Bill signed him up for in the summer of 1992. Charlie called it a waste of time, and then went to play Quidditch.

"Well…" Charlie rubbed his neck. "You're not completely useless, you know? I'm sure that there are people in the world that have full function of all of their limbs that wouldn't be sat doing do their daughter's hair at seven in the morning. But you do it, because you are a good father. You care about how they look and how-how they see you and- and-and…I think that…" he paused, closing his eyes, looking like he was going to have a stroke himself.

Percy grabbed Charlie's hand with his left hand, squeezing it softly. Charlie looked down and smiled weakly.

"Yes…um…" Charlie cleared his throat. "Just stop sulking around now, will you? You're making me depressed."

Percy let himself smile, as he reached out for a piece of parchment paper. He grabbed his quill and started to write. It was nowhere near his perfect handwriting, and it was wonky and sad actually. _I would like to visit Audrey's parents,_ he had written. He then turned the piece of parchment over, and started writing their address. If their hostility was all related to Christopher Fearn, then he supposed that they had common ground now, didn't they?

"Are you sure that's—?" Charlie was cut off, and Percy picked up the letter from his drawer and shoved it to Charlie. He skimmed through the last words of his beautiful dead wife and looked stricken. "Oh," he said.

They stayed there in silence for a few moments, just before five-year-old Molly ran inside, blathering on and on about something related to how ethical the makers of her favourite ever purse was. This was followed by Lucy, asking him if they could go to have just a little peak into Quality Quidditch Supplies, even if he refused to buy them brooms. Charlie was stood at the end of the room, blinking repeatedly. Percy just smirked. And he'd thought taming dragons was hard!


	34. I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 8

_this is the last part in 'i didn't have any fever fudge' as a subplotline. now, as for the rest... i can go in two ways: i can either end it in one or two more parts with this current time frame, or i cut to Percy about ten years from now (Molly and Lucy would be 16) and it'll be 4-5 parts at the very least. i haven't decided yet.  
_

* * *

 **The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty-Four: I Didn't Have Any Fever Fudge! Part 8

* * *

"What happened? Tripped on parchment?" Madam Malkin asked when Percy wheeled himself into her shop.

 _No, you withering old hippogriff_ , _I had a stroke_ , Percy thought to himself, staring at her with tired blue eyes.

You'd think being wheeled around Diagon Alley all day meant that you could doze off for an hour or two. Babies did it all the time when they were in strollers, but Charlie had the elegance of an eight-limbed towering mountain troll. He'd seen more graceful Beaters get slammed by their own Bludgers. As Madam Malkin went to ask him if he'd like a desk chained to his wheelchair by any chance, Percy nodded off towards the copies of _The Daily Prophet_. They were still in a neat little stack. She had a glass of orange juice sat on the most tragic news of his life. Lovely.

"Been attacked by flying memos?" she added on. "Choked on a chocolate biscuit and had a cardiac arrest?"

Malkin then grabbed _The Daily Prophet_ and looked surprised as she took in the words. Percy knew for a fact that he was still the hottest topic they had. Fortunately, on account of him being mute, nobody bothered him for quotes.

"A stroke," Madam Malkin reiterated in disbelief. Every time someone said that word, Percy felt the need to ask for a sickle. If he had, then he'd at least have enough to buy himself a new pair of robes for free. Did you see the prices on here? A hundred Galleons for a few tufts of fabric? "You've had a stroke…at twenty-bloody-three."

He supposed a sickle for every time they mentioned _stroke_ and _twenty-three_ … Percy slowly nodded his head.

"You can't talk, can you?" Malkin asked, only for Percy to shake his head. Her good nature had worn off and her hands were shaking. It was almost like she cared about his wellbeing. Merlin, that wrinkled goat really did care. She looked like she'd just heard that another one of her ten daughters had run off with another Beauxbaton pretty boy after getting pregnant. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a softened expression. Percy opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't. "I suppose I'll see what we can get for you. I—…um…"

Before she could say anything else, Percy felt his wheelchair sliding backwards.

That hunk of junk was giving him a headache. Maybe you shouldn't be buying wheelchairs off second-hand but…

Before he could finish his thought, he was flying through the store. He'd gotten into the vampire robes display, choking on 'coffin safe' leather robes that looked like they belonged in _Charming Cunts_ magazine. As he tried to get off the leather robes, his wheelchair turned spontaneously and accidentally rammed Percy's head into the wall.

 _I already have a perpetual headache!_ Percy thought to himself. _They're called Fred and George!_

After seeing some of the chocolate stars that were on Lucy's favourite cupcakes form right before his eyes, he was wheeled straight down the line. Customers ran away, because they were afraid of getting squashed by an uncontrollable wheelchair.

Was that his healer? "Percy! I thought that Ron was really clever with the Ford Anglia," she shrieked, holding a pair of robes with trains all over them. "Is that a new invention? The flying wheelchair?" she asked, looking impressed. "Look everyone! My favourite ever stroke patient has just invited the flying wheelchair! Amazing!"

 _"FLYING…WHEELCHAIR!"_ Percy heard the rest of them cheer. _"FLYING…WHEELCHAIR!"_

Percy almost failed Flying. He hated flying, and he most definitely did not want to float off the ground in these!

With more loops than a Chaser showing off for his fiancé, Percy managed to not only destroy the whole store in fifteen seconds flat, but his wheelchair had collected about a million robes. Everywhere he saw, he could see the blinding white fabric and thought that this must be the end. This was how he was going to die. Sat in Madam Malkin's, choked by a sparkly green scarf. At least Daphne that he looked good in green, yes? And he supposed that it was symbolic in a way because Percy almost died from a nuchal cord. He obviously had difficulty parting with his living arrangements—

Before Percy could think about it, he was thrown from his wheelchair and landed into a dazzling robe display.

"Mr Weasley are you alright?" a bloke walked towards him. Percy wondered what Charlie would think if he came into the shop now. He was in Quality Quidditch Supplies with his daughters. He had been thinking at the time that he hoped that Charlie wouldn't let them ruin any of the merchandise. Ha. Lovely. "That was quite a fall! It made the Tutshill Tornadoes look a little more like the Tutshill Tornadon'ts! Are you going to be marketing any of this?"

He paled dramatically when Percy didn't reply. "Are you choking? Do you need CPR?" he paused. "You're so pale!"

Did he look like he needed to be resuscitated? Percy didn't know if he could explain to his daughters why he had his lips locked with a strange man in the middle of a robes shop! He tried to get away but having one hand was difficult. Suddenly, he had an admiration for all those easily squished creatures. He bonded with flobberworms. He—

"Tommy, as that lady mentioned, he had a stroke. He can't talk," Madam Malkin stood there with a cold expression.

"Oh, yes, yes, a stroke," Tommy looked at her as if he knew that all along. Silly him. "Yes, yes, he's the bloke in the papers that ruined his whole life in less than a month. The one with the heart attack, then the custody issue then the stroke, isn't it, right? You are the junior assistant to the Minister of Magic, right? Or… well, you used to be before your shocking disability. I remember now. And look at you now! Rising above it all— _literally!"_

Madam Malkin looked at all the robes around Percy. Well, um, he'd take this all to go now! Please!

Fortunately, Madam Malkin was used to this happening. A few flicks of her wand and everything was pristine as ever. All the other customers looked stunned and wandered over to the check-out. She looked down at him, smirking.

"I have a couple of robes reserved for you already," Malkin had the strength of a hippogriff because she'd grabbed him by his waist and then plopped him down on the wheelchair as if she was putting a seven-pound baby in a stroller. Percy gawked at her. "All blue! It goes with your eyes…and the sky… well, now that you found your calling!"

Percy could just about see The Daily Prophet tomorrow: _STROKE VICTIM FLIES IN WHEELCHAIR. LOOKS GOOD IN BLUE._

After leaving Madam Malkin's with shopping bags all over his wheelchair, Percy met up with Charlie on the bench, who sipped away at a mint chocolate shake. "Flying wheelchairs, ah?" he asked to which Percy flushed. He did know that these stupid things could be operated on intense bursts of emotion and um…Percy did have intense feelings. Lovely.

He had managed not to wet himself the whole day (from anxiety, he would like to mention. Fortunately, he had control of his bladder.) But the thought of meeting the Brown family again left him feeling apprehensive. But considering that he had made Charlie sign a waiver that stated that they were not leaving until they came to a clear conclusion, Percy couldn't back himself out of it for the fear that he would hate himself forever.

The house was just like Percy remembered it… except, you know, for the fact that it was completely different.

It was a gigantic mansion with a huge fountain now. As they wheeled him over there, Percy felt himself pale. He had a bouquet of pathetic yellowing gardenias. He might as well have been offering the Devil's Snare considering the rest of the gardenias in the garden looked like they were ready for a bloody wedding. There was a grey stony plaque in the centre, covered in all kinds of flowers, saying _LUCY CLAIRE BROWN._ There were pictures of her everywhere. There were pictures of Audrey with her split lip, which Percy had never seen before. There were other pictures of a teeny translucent looking baby that looked like she had been starved to death. Percy stroked the cold stone, shuddering.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Charlie's voice was genuinely apologetic. More genuine that the promises he'd made her.

Percy wondered if he could steal one of the photos of her split lip. He wondered how it would've felt like to feel the skin under his hand. When he closed his eyes, he could practically see her gigantic ones staring back at him. Before he knew it, his eyes were filling with tears and he could hardly stop it from spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"I know that nobody else talked to you about it, but we all wish that we could've met her," Percy looked up, drinking up every word that Charlie was saying. "Perce, her death is eating you up inside. Do you think that's healthy? Even though you didn't know her for so long, do you really think that she'd want you mourning over her like this?"

Percy shook his head. He knew that he was unhealthily obsessing over what could've been, but he couldn't help it.

He picked up his bouquet and then added it to the pile, but it was dwarfed by Impressive Arrangement Number 38 and Impressive Arrangement Number 39. Percy looked at his daughters, who were busy picking at daisies. They didn't know that this whole garden practically celebrated their dead mum, and well… he wasn't about to tell them.

Percy turned back and noticed Candance standing there. She looked like she belonged in Primpernelle's toy box.

She was stood there in a pair of bright pink trousers, along with a white top that would look sensible if not for the fact that her breasts were threatening to burst out. They were even more Quaffle-sized than they were before, and her full lips were unnaturally plump. Her blonde hair pulled back into a bun. She was unhealthy thin. Candace's eyes were on Molly and Lucy, who were probably dismantling her garden and all the things that she worked hard for.

Percy offered her a piece of paper. _The gall of me I'm aware, but I just would like to talk_. Percy then offered the letter that Audrey wrote to him, the last letter that she'd ever written. As Candace read it, Percy was terrified that she'd tell him off. Tell him that he'd made it up and that he was a horrible person that should've died in that first hospital admission.

"You still pay for her flat," Candace finally said, sounding stiff. "I visited last week."

Percy nodded his head slowly, his lips pursed into a thin line. _Of course, I do, you senile cow… I love her!_

"It looks the same. It smells the same," Candace said, as if Percy wasn't aware of that. "Do you want to come in?"

Charlie had his hand on Percy's wheelchair and his knuckles had turned white. He had heard the story. He knew what this woman had said to Percy, had done to him. But Percy couldn't take him seriously because he didn't look as enthralled as he did constipated. Percy wanted to tell him to calm down lest he got haemorrhoids.

A few minutes later, he was wheeled into the house. It looked the same on the inside. It smelled the same.

Dominic had almost dropped the cup of tea he was holding the second that he saw Percy sat there in his pathetic wheelchair. Dominic looked like he'd seen a ghost. He looked down at Molly and Lucy and then looked away, his whole face turning as white as a sheet. Tears were filling his eyes. He looked as undernourished as ever.

"What… what happened to you?" Dominic asked, looking at Percy with a look he recognised as guilt.

 _What happened to you?_ Percy thought to himself. Dominic looked like a walking Inferi. He didn't look human.

"I tried to find you a few days after," Dominic admitted, rubbing his eyes. Percy suddenly felt like he really was at home with these people. Because there wasn't anyone in his family that would ever understand how much of a tragedy Audrey's death was. They didn't understand how Audrey's death left a gigantic hole in his heart, but they understood. They lost her too. "I waited in the flat sometimes. After I saw what you…what you kept doing after what-what I did… the flowers. Flowers every bloody week. You remembered all her favourite flowers. God, _I_ don't even remember them! And I've known her for eighteen bloody years. You…you barely knew her, but you remembered. _All_ of them!"

"Dad thinks about mum all the time!" Molly said excitedly. "It's _so_ romantic," she breathed out. Pardon him. He was not going to hear his five-year-old talk about anything being romantic! Percy shot her a look.

"Uh huh!" Lucy agreed. "He looks so dumb when he dozes off, like he's got some big secret! But we all know what he's thinking about. It's so boring. He'd be drinking tea and think 'oh, she likes to drink it black.' Yuck."

Percy did not doze off and smile to himself like he had a big secret. Alright, well, he supposed that he did do it on occasion. And maybe it was not 100% sane to close his eyes whenever he had a problem and ask Audrey what he should do. Nor was it 100% sane to visit your dead wife's grave every other day, even though you were only married to her for the span of two weeks. And knew her for a few months. But, well…

"You loved her," Dominic said, sounding like he had just realised that. "You really loved her. And we…I…"

Percy nodded his head slowly. For five bloody years, he'd loved her. He gave Dominic his left hand and the muggle bloke shook it as firmly as he could. Percy then raised an eyebrow, before snatching up Dominic's cold cup of tea. He was thirsty! Was anyone ever going to offer him up a drink? Did he really have to go by snatching other people's cups?

He took a sip, feeling a little shaky. He hadn't had anything since he refused to drink a grey pomegranate shake. Grey!

Just then, Candace swooned by with a plate of small almond biscuits. Molly and Lucy immediately leaped, cramming as much tiny biscuits into their mouth. They didn't even ask if they were organic. Candace managed to swipe one and offer it to Percy, who just shook his head even though he really did miss eating biscuits. And he'd never eaten almond biscuits that looked like _that_ before. "Can you get more tea for Percy?" Charlie asked, rubbing Percy's shoulder. "He hasn't really had much yet on account of a grey-looking pomegranate shake. And… well, he can't exactly swallow."

"You can't swallow?" Dominic looked horrified, as if he was the reason that Percy had his stroke. "God."

Percy just smiled weakly at him. Dominic insisted on wheeling him over to the living room, where everyone was lounging at. Candace had a new tray of almond biscuits and a fresh pot of tea out. Valentina and Sophia's suspicious looks melted. Timothy walked over to Molly and Lucy, shrieking in excitement. He still had split lip, and Molly and Lucy were not rude enough to mention it out right, like true British girls. They'd just ask about it later.

They sat there in silence, as Percy sipped his tea, feeling the liquid warm his weary bones. He felt content.

They talked about Audrey when Molly and Lucy were playing with Timothy. Well, Percy just listened. He really wanted to let go. He wanted to move on, but a part of him was clinging on so tightly. But maybe this was just how it was supposed to be. Maybe he just had to learn to cope with remembering all the time. Maybe that was enough.

Even though he was ecstatic at the time, he couldn't remember the conversations they'd had that night.

He thought that this would change everything, but the second he laid down that night, he could hear Candace telling him off for killing his daughter and he could see the colour drain out of Audrey's face. She was _so_ special. Her death wasn't fair. It was never going to be fair. And as long as Percy breathed, he'd always think he'd rather it was him.

When he woke up, he expected that Charlie would be beside him, but he was snoring on a mattress.

Daphne Greengrass was lying beside him, holding his hand as he panted vigorously. Daphne fluttered her bright blue eyes, staring at him with a worried expression. She inched in a little closer, and then kissed his cheek. "I love you so much," Daphne whispered. She couldn't have meant it because she was so exhausted. But then he realised that she was holding his hand, squeezing it a second later as if to confirm that it was true.

 _Even if I still love her?_ Percy wondered, but he was suddenly glad he couldn't ask her. He didn't want to ask her.


	35. Percy Is Not a Herbologist Part 1

**The Devil Wears Second-Hand Robes**

Chapter Thirty-Five: Percy Is Not a Herbologist Part 1

* * *

There were things you just didn't see every day, such as a Pixie Puff ice lolly advertisement about how they were bringing back the Bludgeoning Blueberry flavours. Or a _Witch Weekly_ advertisement showing a model that had _not_ been contorted with enough Spellbinding Spandex to give her spontaneous pneumothorax. Or a thirty-six-year-old ex-dragon-tamer now-unlicenced-private-nurse accidentally shoving his thirty-three-year-old disabled brother inside a portable toilet for a laugh but now had spent fifteen minutes attempting to get him unstuck from said toilet.

"Charles," Percy shot Charlie a look that could kill a Hebridean Black. "You're going to give me a _third_ stroke."

Yes, um, Percy had had a second stroke. He almost got fully rehabilitated and then suffered a second stroke a few weeks after. According to the healers, it was purely because the risk of having another stroke increased when you had one. He had still taking his potions during the time of the event. To this day, Percy still maintained the fact that knowing that his Honeydukes-tooth-rottenly-sweet daughter had lost her virginity to an androgynous fifth year had something to do with it. Oh, and of course, the fact that the Ballycastle Bats lost the Quidditch Cup that year even though he knew they were supposed to win. He was, after all, skilled at Tessomancy.

"Um…you don't mean that, Perce," Charlie laughed nervously, sweat dripping off his chiseled frame. "I mean…um…do you really feel strokes coming on? Do you need a hospital—or you know, um…oxygen?"

"No, I'd like to talk to McGonagall about how you managed to pass Hogwarts," Percy muttered in annoyance.

What a splendacious day! One would think that the ex-junior assistant to the Minister of Magic would be able to go to Diagon Alley without his arse becoming one with the toilet bowl. His buttocks were now numb with disbelief.

Charlie tried to heave Percy out from the toilet. "Merlin, Perce, you've really put it on, you know."

"I have not put it on!" Percy hissed coldly. He wished he would've put it on as unfortunately, Charlie regularly mistook his daughter's trousers for his. His eight-stone daughter, mind you. "I had an appendectomy before. I have lost a whole organ. I'm practically withering away right before your very eyes!"

"Perce, I'm fifteen stones. _Everyone_ is withering away right before my very eyes!" Charlie yelled. "Even Lucy."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Percy looked at him with irritation.

"Well, she's a lovely, well-rounded woman, Perce…" Charlie tried to explain softly, only to receive a glare.

 _"Well-rounded?"_ Percy echoed incredulously. He couldn't believe the gall of Charlie. There was nothing wrong with how Lucy looked like. How much buttercream she scoffed was none of Charlie's business. "You better pray that I never get unstuck, because if I do, you're going to wish that you paid attention to Flitwick's class on counter curses."

"Okay, okay—Merlin, you're so bloody touchy these days! I don't know how your wife even handles you! _AND_ you're acting like this hasn't happened before…I mean…Godric, do you remember the time that I accidentally made that toilet explode in the Broomstick Inn? Even Fred and George's new self-combusting dungbombs couldn't send that toilet to Canterbury! Canterbury! Can you imagine being smacked in the face by a flying, combusting toilet? Ha ha _HA!"_ Charlie used some disgusting lubricating spell on the toilet and was trying to pull Percy from it, who had almost fallen into the whirring toilet bowl. "Merlin, this lubricating spell is disgusting! Perce, you look like you sprung a leak." Percy looked down at his baggy beige trousers and realised that they were wetter than a crup in rain.

Percy let out a sound that was a cross between a hungry Scabbers and a vocal, orgasming vampire.

"Sprung a leak?" Percy echoed incredulously, looking at his wet trousers. "I am a dignified man! I was almost Ministry of Magic…allegedly!" Percy wondered if he'd permanently lost sensation to his arse. "Do you know what almost Minister of Magics don't do? They don't get stuck into a portable toilet for an hour, feeling sorry for that dead flobberworm they'd flushed down the lavatory when they were seven…and they certainly don't do it with an ex-dragon tamer that has confessed that he has barely passed first-year level Charms to boot!"

"Hey, even though I barely passed Charms, all the women agreed I was very charming," Charlie argued weakly.

He unzipped Percy's pants in haste and was panting so hard that he felt like he was going to pass out in the lavatory. "It's okay, Perce! Um, I'm sure that I've got spare pants!" Charlie nervously laughed. What was this cruel and unusual punishment? Charlie pulled down Percy's pants and then threw them aside in the disgusting, unclean public portable lavatory. Charlie took off Percy's trousers and tossed them aside. He looked down at his rucksack, leafing through all the things that he packed whenever they left the flat. Bottles of Wizarding Ensure fell from the rucksack along with a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , tissue papers, and a miniature wheelchair repair kit endorsed by Gilderoy Lockhart. Then he pulled out a pair of broomstick pyjama bottoms. "Oh…well…they said that it's casual dress!"

"You're joking," Percy shook his head incredulously as Charlie tried to pull over the pyjama bottoms over his legs. "I am not selling ethically sourced quills whilst looking like I've escaped the Hogwarts dormitories past curfew!"

He was not wearing pyjamas to Diagon Alley's _Potions for Parents_ exhibition. He refused to be a laughingstock…again.

Holding the pyjama bottoms in his hands, Charlie tried to pull Percy out of the toilet. By then, he was sure that part of his arse had merged with the toilet, forming a symbiotic relationship. Who made lavatories this size anyway? Was this a disabled toilet for house elves? Was Britain going not going far enough with Primpernelle's Beastly Bodacious Bums campaign?

"Almost out!" Charlie replied happily. "You're doing great, Perce! Just a little—a little bit more and we'll be…"

"If all your other careers don't pan out, Charlie, then maybe you should consider being a birthing coach," Percy was sure that Charlie (and everyone else) preferred him when he hadn't been able to talk. "This is unbecoming of—"

But just as Percy was released from the toilet, the portable toilet door opened. Charlie tumbled backwards and Percy flew with the violence of a hurried Seeker right across the exhibit. A shriek sounded out the second that it happened. Toilet water flooded the whole of Diagon Alley. Excited screams of five-year-olds that thrived off doing things that terrified their good-natured parents echoed. Parents were staring at him with stunned looks of disapproval. It was just another normal day in the life of Percival Ignatius Weasley.

Wonderful. It was two pm and all of Diagon Alley smelled like sewage and wasted hope, not unlike Percy's flat.

Percy remembered seeing stars form in front of his very eyes and decided that maybe he'd need a calming draught or he really might have that third stroke. To his right, there was a display on _How to_ _Discipline Your Children Without Stupefying Them_ , and a food stall that sold red-coloured candy floss that looked suspiciously like his daughter Molly's bright red hair. He was also probably going to die from degenerative brain changes with the amount of concussions that he'd been getting lately.

He tried to sit up but his body was more taxed than it was the day after that one-night stand with Audrey.

 _"FRED! GEORGE!"_ fifty-nine-year-old Molly screamed, only for Fred and George to turn his head towards his mum with. Like they didn't know why his mum suspected them of causing The Great Toilet Flood. " _WHAT IS THIS?"_

"Did you do this?" George asked Fred, looking a little irritated that his brother didn't bring him into the fold.

" _NO!_ Is this what you think of me, Georgie? Is this how marriage changed you?" Fred hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. Little three-year-old Roxanne stared at her uncle with glossy eyes. She still couldn't really tell her father from her uncle apart. "But I wish that I did! This sodding exhibit is about as exciting as giving ole Filch an enema! But I promised your dear wife that I would… _behave_ ," he said the word like it was as poisonous as a Venomous Tentacula.

Percy bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't believe he was in that greasy public toilet. This was it. This was the end. He was going to die of complete public humiliation. Nothing topped this, especially when his mum gave him that pitying look... Godric, he'd been disabled for a bloody decade now! You'd think she'd have gotten used to it.

"Percy!" his mum cried out in desperation. "Baby!" she ran over to him, embarrassing him in front of everyone.

She called him _BABY_. In the _Potions for Parents_ exhibit. When he was a thirty-something-year-old man that had two grown daughters, and she'd managed to reduce him to a six-year-old drooling on himself with a single word.

"I am not a baby! I am a grown man! I had my own babies!" Percy waved his hands around theatrically, then he realised he had no pants on. Lovely.

 _"CHARLIE! GET UP!_ Help him!" his mum overdramatically was waving her wand around everywhere and Percy found himself thrown up int other air and slammed against a pole. As if it wasn't bad enough he couldn't walk.

Oh, and Charlie had managed to knock a stall of Baby's First Robes with his gargantuan, muscular body. Perfect!

"What's gone on?" Arthur walked towards Percy, with a soaked, pregnant Hermione that looked like she was about to faint. Percy did not want to think about how Ron's baby angel Rose faired after being covered in spewage. By the way, Arthur Weasley was still the Minister of Magic. Merlin knew how he'd managed to accomplish that feat. _"Percy?"_

Well, Arthur didn't ignore the fact that You-Know-Who had returned he supposed but…

Percy was lying on the ground, the Unruly Thing even more askew than usual. He had his Quidditch boxers (a gift form Charlie, who helped him dress up anyway, so he made sure that he was wearing them) there for the world to see. Mind you, these underpants were white and wet, so it didn't leave much to the imagination. He was shaking more violently like a werewolf about to transform. A man standing beside him smiled who was covered in… Merlin knew what he was covered in, but it was _putrid!_ Percy just thought they should toss him back in the Great Lake along with the rest of the slimy, disgusting sea creatures that lived there. He was genuinely traumatised by the experience. Horrible.

And his unlicenced personal nurse, Charlie, was currently seeing Golden Snidgets flying in front of his eyes! He wasn't exactly in the right headspace to help cut this embarrassing experience short now, was he?

"Sir? Sir?" a woman walked towards him, shaking him. What was wrong with this woman? He was bloody conscious all this time! "Are you alright? Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Can you please tell me your name, sir?"

Percy's eyes widened, but he supposed many thirty-three-year-olds did not lie on the grass with wet underpants.

He tried to say his name but what came out sounded like he was actively having a stroke. His voice was so slurred he bet that he'd make seventh years stumbling out of a pub sound like they were sober. The woman looked at him in alert. "Oh dear!" she shrieked, slamming her hand against his back. Percy coughed. "He's…he's _CHOKING!_ Someone help me! This man is choking on-on… um… candy floss! I told everyone how dangerous these are! Diabetes kills all!"

Percy shook his head, sighing deeply. "Madam," his voice showed the tiredness of all he'd been through. "I—"

"He's fine, just lost his dignity probably," twenty-eight-year-old Ginny explained to the woman, walking towards him. Six-year-old James was wearing a _S.P.E.W_ t-shirt that Hermione had given him for his birthday last year. "He's not bloody choking! And he could talk just fine—well now, he could talk just fine…I think," Ginny took off her gaudily pink cardigan and then wrapped him around in it, helping him sit up. Great. Now, he was modelling the Quiberon Quafflepunchers' new collection.

"Are you okay, Perce?" she asked to which Percy just kept shaking his head. He had made a fool of himself…again!

"Yes, I was just testing the soil temperature with my bottom," Percy muttered in annoyance. "It's perfect! Just like this day has been thus far!"

"Dad?" Percy looked up and saw fifteen-year-old Lucy Weasley glaring at him, freckled plump cheeks flushed in red. Lucy was a five-foot-eight redhead with radiant bright blue eyes. She had a short red bob that was silkier than Madam Malkin's new pale robes display. She wore overpriced Quidditch jumpers that looked like they were second-hand. "Why can't you do anything right? Why do you have to go around embarrassing me in front of my friends?"

She gestured to a bunch of sixth year Gryffindors, who looked at him like he was a contagious case of dragon box.

"Watch your tongue," Percy warned her with a hard look on his face. "I was almost Minister of Magic…allegedly!"

"Merlin, Luce, what is wrong with you? All you care about is yourself! And your friends are horrible to Clark! They locked him into the Prefect bathroom for a laugh! You know he's not allowed in there!" fifteen-year-old Molly replied back to her with an angry expression. She was an inch or two taller than Lucy. Her extra-small robes were baggy on her. She pulled out her wand with a sigh. With a snap of her fingers and a wave of her wand, Percy back on his wheelchair, dry and wearing a pair of black trousers that he was sure she must've bought along with her.

"This is the last time I'm leaving any of you by yourselves! Now, where is…" she shrieked. _"UNCLE CHARLIE!"_

Charlie sat up, looking woozy. "Blast it," he looked at his trousers. "I was the one that needed the toilet after all."

And Percy thought that the only people here that had issues controlling their bladder would be under four.

"Are you alright, love?" fifty-nine-year-old Molly walked towards him, looking a little anxious. She lived in the fear that in the next three minutes, Percy was going to convulse and die. She visited him at least once every three days, just to make sure that he was still breathing oxygen just like everyone else. He supposed after two strokes and an admission in intensive care for a thyroid storm, he couldn't really blame her… much that was. She put up four fingers and asked, "Do you know how many fingers I'm holding up? Can you even see my fingers? Percy, how's your sight?"

"Minus three on one side and four on the other," Percy cynically responded, because he was just fine. Alright, he had the absolute worst headache in the world, but he was lucky he didn't accidentally crack his skull. "I'm fine, mother."

Lucy's friends were laughing, snickering about how her grandmother still babied her son like he was all of twelve years old. Lucy looked at Percy, completely fed up. "It's like you want me to be a social outcast forever," Lucy waved her arms around. "Honestly, dad, you're so embarrassing. Sometimes I feel like I'm gonna die of embarrassment! Can't you like…I don't know…use a dragon to get around or something? Uncle Charlie _was_ a dragon tamer after all."

Percy was sure his brain stopped working. "You want me to ride a dragon so I would look cool?" he echoed in disbelief. "Love, I don't know if you know this, but dragons breathe fire. And they're moodier than your mother."

"Mum is cool," Lucy decided, her attitude changing. "At least she knows I don't have to dress like grandma. No offence, grandma, but like…" she paused, trying to figure out how to tell her that she'd rather die than dress in next week's hippest floral patterns. "Whatever, dad, can you give me a couple of Galleons for fish and chips?"

Percy looked at her as if she was crazy. "What are they made with?" he asked. "Gold?"

"Why are you always like this!" Lucy whined in a high-pitched voice. Percy was sure that the reason he didn't sleep at night was because he could hear Lucy complaining about everything under the sun until three am. Everyone had told him that he spoiled his daughters too much when they were children—well, they were right. "I hate you!"

Percy didn't even bat an eyelid. She told him she hated him about fifty times a day. He didn't even tell her off for it anymore.

Percy pulled out a few Galleons from his pocket. "I don't care how much contempt you have for me, you better have wonderful O.W.L results this year."

"Yeah, who cares?" Lucy mumbled in annoyance as she took his Galleons without as much as a thank you. Typical. He raised the moodiest teenager in the whole planet. "We're all gonna die anyway. So…"

Percy rubbed his temples. "Go buy your fish and chips," he cried out in defeat. He could probably buy a new personality with that many Galleons!

As he was being wheeled back to his stall by his daughter Molly, he felt himself relax a little. Lucy was off doing only Merlin knew what with her friends with a couple of Galleons he so generously gave her. Daphne had just returned back to their stall. She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, only for him to look up and weakly smile back at her. For a moment, he was transported to the day that they'd decided to get involved with one another. Well, she practically backed him up in a corner and forced him to give her a verdict, but it was all semantics, he supposed.

"I know that I'm always going to be second to her," was the first thing that Daphne told him that dreary London afternoon after lying in bed, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling because he was still fuzzy from sleeping ten hours last night. She was lying beside him, having not turned up to work that day and smelled eerily like someone from his past with her light scented jasmine perfume. "But it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I am sick of you ignoring me when I said that I like you—hello, Percival, have you _seen_ me? I can get Oliver Wood in bed with me tomorrow. But I don't want a star Quidditch player. I want you. And I want an answer too, because that's what I deserve."

"An answer to _what?"_ twenty-six-year-old Percy lazily asked, because he knew exactly what she meant, and she knew it too.

Daphne's eyes bulged as wide as possible. "Percy!" she shrieked. In his mind, he'd been thinking about how he'd made a big mistake going to the rehabilitation centre. Now that he could talk again, people expected to have conversations with him. What a bore. "An answer to…to…are we ever going to get involved? You know, go out? And don't say we already go out to Diagon Alley every week! I mean as a _couple!_ I mean not to buy toys for your daughters! I mean not to indulge in your sick fascination for exotic half-off quills! I mean as in…as in go out to Madam Puddifoot's!"

Madam Puddifoot's. Percy shuddered. He was not sure if he could make a Madam Puddifoot type commitment…

"Um, yes, well…" was probably not one of Percy's most eloquent responses. He was scratching his neck.

"Well, Miss Greengrass, I never thought about us in that kind of way, even when you told me that you were… considering us before," well, she didn't just 'consider him'. She'd practically professed his love to him! "I understand I have been avoiding the question and heavily avoiding the situation as well. I just…never considered taking you to Madam Puddifoot's before. Or Rosa Lea Teabag. Or Honeyduke's Lovely Couple Chocolate Tastings. Or—"

He couldn't exactly say that she was 'attracted' to him. She was a _Witch Weekly_ model. He was gangly and clumsy.

"Really, Percival? You've never thought about it for one fleeting second? Don't you _EVER_ feel lonely?" Daphne looked at him with a softness to her blue eyes that made his heart beat faster than ever. She placed her hand on his arm. "Don't you ever think about how you've been in love with a ghost for the past eight years?"

"I…well…" Percy looked at the ceiling. He could still remember how warm Daphne's hand was, and how soft her hair was. If this was a beautiful romantic story, he'd say that he'd fallen in love with her then and there, but he didn't. But he just felt cold, and dark and empty and incapable of loving. "And that's why you deserve better."

"And what about what you deserve? Do you want to be miserable and alone forever? And what about me? Don't you think that _I_ should decide what I deserve?" Daphne's voice went higher than ever. He felt a shiver run down his spine, just thinking about it. "I'm not one of your little girls, Percy. And you have to understand that even with Molly and Lucy, there's gonna be a time where you can't control their decisions either. Unfortunately for you, they're going to have their own choices and mistakes." He shuddered. "What are you so scared of? I just don't understand—"

"We are two different people!" Percy pulled his duvet over his body. "We have absolutely nothing in common."

Daphne rolled her eyes at him. "Do we have to have everything in common under the sun for it to work out?" her voice was icy and acerbic. He shuddered at the thought. "Because it worked out so well with Penelope Clearwater, didn't it? And even Audrey, you had so much in common with her that you didn't know how to talk to her! Are you afraid that we're not going to connect because you read _Challenges in Charming_ and I read _Witch Weekly_ magazine?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and then said, "This is stupid, Percival. We're not in Hogwarts anymore. You can't tell me that…that you don't want to give me a chance because you're afraid we're not going to be compatible!"

"I'm afraid that we are…going to be that is," Percy confessed uneasily. "Err… Miss Greengrass?"

"Here's a novel idea, Percy, but you don't _have_ to be miserable forever," she told him, all glowing blonde hair and blue eyes. Why did she want him?

"I… well, I suppose I don't," Percy was lonely. He really was tired of chasing after a ghost. He didn't even know what Audrey would've wanted for him. For all he knew, she never gave him a second thought. He was tired of being in love with a woman that he'd known for a couple of months, that he knew nothing about. He was tired of the tragedy of it all. He was tired of things being so stagnant. "I do…fancy a table at Puddifoot's. I've thought about it. Not necessarily with you, but I have considered it, especially since…well, Lucy and Molly _have_ been asking about…well—"

"They're wondering why you're so alone and miserable and _you_ can't give them an answer," Daphne summarised, only for him to flush. "Because you're so insistent that they know that you only knew their mum for a total of two months. Because you told them everything," her voice softened. "They're only eight, Percy, but they know that their father was a monster."

Percy's lip twitched. "I was only five when the war happened and I can tell you that I knew so much, but nobody explained anything to me," he answered back. He did not have an unfathomable love with Audrey, so why was it so hard to let go? He supposed it was because what had happened to her was so unfathomable. Percy had wondered for years after why a man would take advantage of an eighteen-year-old with a split lip, and manipulate her into thinking that she was not enough for him? "I make my daughters read scholarly articles to enrich their minds. They read pages of _The Daily Prophet_ that have been carelessly placed on the counter, with avid descriptions of wars and famine. They read about Christopher's trial for Merlin's sake. They grasp more than your average second year! I don't think that it's beneath them to know that their biological father was a self-obsessive murdering psychopath that raped muggleborns because he thought that he could get away with it! Well…in much less descriptive and violent terms, of course."

Percy looked down at his bedsheet. Where had their conversation gone to? "He may be a monster but I'm not."

Christopher Fearn was only a lowly muggleborn himself. According to him, why would the Ministry care about a muggleborn did to other muggleborns when purebloods went around raping and murdering muggleborns all the time? Why did he get a penalty for a crime that many purebloods hadn't yet been charged with?

"You wrote a book about him _for her_ ," she placed her hands on his wrist. "But now it's time to let both of them go."

"I'm not sure if I'd be able to," Percy did write a book. It was flying off the shelves in Flourish and Blotts for the past few weeks. His obsession with Christopher Fearn had nearly ended him, but it had been all worth it when they'd not only discovered that he'd raped women, but he had a string of very violent affairs in his youth that was spurred on by decapitating Kneazles at a young age. It made him ill to think that the disappearances of three fifteen-year-old girls had been attributed to him. It shocked him that confession upon confession all came forth because of a lowly muggle girl writing a letter to him, a letter that he knew nothing about for five whole years of his life. "Miss Greengrass?"

"Yes?" she asked, as he looked across the room to his wheelchair. He could've told her a thousand things, about how she deserved someone that would think of her first, about how she didn't understand how mucked up he could be and about how he didn't see a future for them, and all of them would be true but he didn't. Because as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He was holding onto the past so much that he couldn't even see the future anymore.

"Are…are you lonely too?" Percy asked, only for her to slowly nod her head.

Then he looked at her and saw something in her that was so real and so vulnerable that it made him look at her like something new.

"Well, I never really considered it," Daphne mocked him. "Merlin, you're such a self-centred git," she told him.

"I'm aware," Percy reached over to cup her cheek. He should not be touching his ex-assistant's face like this. But he supposed that his ex-assistant shouldn't be lying in bed with him. Oh, and his ex-assistant's mum shouldn't be sat there across from the kitchen counter in the morning, moaning about his choice of half-off jellies and jams. "Where… where does this leave us?" he remembered asking her that like it was yesterday. He remembered the look on her face when he did.

"It doesn't leave us anywhere," Daphne replied back to him curtly. "I'm not the one with the problem. You are. And I don't want to wait for an answer anymore. I think I deserve a chance just like anyone else. I'm not demanding you to fall in love with me. I'm not forcing you to say yes, but I deserve an answer too."

Percy couldn't argue with that (trust him, he tried). "Um…" he felt unsure. How could he not be? "Yes."

"Yes, as in you're willing to give this a chance?" Daphne asked, only for him to slowly nod his head.

"Miss Greengrass? I hope you know that I overthink everything under the planet," he paused, only for her to roll her eyes. Merlin, why did she have to be so right? "Err… I will try… um… Daphne?" he remembered saying it out loud like that for the first time and it felt stranger on his tongue than that horrific Acid Pop ice lolly he chanced eating.

"My first given name!" Daphne exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and glee. "I almost thought you'd forgotten!"

"Yes, well, um…that really isn't fair. I've…I've written it when sending letters, you know!" Percy stammered. "I—"

Then she grabbed his face and went in for a kiss, only for her big fat forehead to collide with his big fat glasses.

To add onto the pounding headache, he was so embarrassed. It was the same day that Grace had decided to take Percy out to shop for 'handicapped equipment'. He was so flustered that he asked her if she was taking him to a sex shop.

Well, that was about a decade and forever ago. Now, they'd been married for the past year after an excruciatingly long period of dating and even more excruciatingly long engagement. Unfortunately for him, he had come to discover that his perfect little Daphne Greengrass was not perfect at all. First of all, he had discovered that those beautiful golden locks were faker than Gwenog Jones' breasts. He was shocked. She was about as blonde he was! He had also discovered that she took about two-hour long showers and had frequently plugged his bathroom with her naturally dark locks and crazy curly hair that she hid behind gigantic amounts of Primpernelle products. Even more shockingly, he'd discovered that Daphne wore glasses and carried around copies of _The_ _Daily Prophet_. He had never been so aroused as he did when he saw her marking the spelling errors in battered red quills at five in the morning.

He supposed that, in essence, Daphne Greengrass turned out to be his type after all.

Right now, he was transported back to reality. Here he was, thirty-three-years-old, sat here in his stall where they were selling his collection of exotic quills because Daphne wanted him to get rid of everything he owned that had no purpose. According to her, the near ten-foot essay he wrote about the importance of exotic quill history did not deter from the fact that it was taking up space that they needed and um, well, he was mildly allergic to the quills so that he couldn't very well use them.

Right now, he was sat there in his wheelchair with the worst headache. He had a drippy nose and started sneezing.

"I can't believe you managed to keep this in the flat for the last decade! What did you need _five_ auguery quills for anyway? They don't even retain ink!" Daphne told him off for the millionth time that day. She also told him off when he was eating jam out of the pot because he couldn't be bothered to wake Charlie up to apparate to the store for bread. Needless to say, the last time he apparated alone, he ended up flat on the ground and with a displaced tibia. "And I'm impressed that you can't even go to the lavatory without flooding Diagon Alley. Congratulations."

His ears reddened dramatically. "There is a defect in the plumbing system! I wrote to the Ministry about it!" he yelled.

Fortunately for Percy, their day was cut short on the back of a horrible humiliating public display. He was back in their flat by five in the afternoon and even though he'd been changed into clean underpants and pyjama bottoms, he could still feel the dapmness around his arse being wet from the disgusting Diagon Alley grass. Lovely. Around the table, they were eating a tomato and prawn pasta bake with enough cheese to make Gerda Curd ill. They were also passing a round of this delicious pesto-garlic bread. Percy had a separate portion than everyone else that didn't have any prawns in it, fortunately for him.

You'd think now that he was thirty-three years old, his life would have more meaning, but he apparently had stopped maturing past his fifth year, which was such a shame. At least he'd finally, finally made peace with Audrey's death (well most of the time that was), which was more than Snape could've said for himself when he'd been alive. Percy had also managed to find peace in himself now that he realised that no matter how bad it got, he was still functioning more aptly than Charlie, who seemed to act like he was always trying to control ten limbs at a time.

"Wow," Charlie shook his head, pouring a cup of water for himself. Percy was already sipping his cup, his humiliation and defeat hanging in the air like their mum's perfume. "What a day! I…I didn't know that these exhibits can get even more boring! I was about to crawl into a pram and take a nap. But I think everything went well up until the portable toilet incident. Well, there was you nearly setting a stall on fire but…" he smiled. "Hey, Perce, how's those mobility classes coming along? I heard last week that you could move your toes! Do you want to try that for me?"

Percy was stunned, staring at Charlie like he was speaking in Elvish. He was a grown man, but he talked to him as if he was all of six years old because he happened to be live his life exclusively in this horrible second-hand wheelchair.

"No, you dim-witted imbecile, I can't wiggle my toes," Percy mumbled under his breath. "I have had two strokes! That is _TWO_ events where parts of my brain tissue has died!"

"Come on, Perce, don't give me that," Charlie started sipping his cup. "I mean—I don't mean to make it sound like you're an invalid. I _am_ happy for your accomplishments… I-I just don't know what they are! I mean you've been going to that rehabilitation centre for a bloody decade now, and you're still…I mean…you're not very rehabilitated, are you? I've seen dragon tamers come back to work after getting torched from head to toe and you're still…well, you're doing really well for someone that can't do much but…" he trailed off. "That's just it. You can't really do much, can you? Shouldn't you at least be able to go through your morning without needing my help?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "I would probably be able to, if part of my brain had not _died_ ," he reminded him. "Twice."

It was always the same thing. Beyond his closed knit family of Daphne, Molly and Lucy, everyone else believed that he could still be rehabilitated even more than he was now. Percy felt like he had to remember his whole family constantly that a part of his brain had infarcted. Strangely enough, Percy had gotten used to being as active as a rock and didn't remember how it was like to walk, which he supposed was probably not a promising sign.

You'd think people would be pleased now that he stopped gloating about his achievements… but even Ron was bothering him about how he didn't do anything!

Just because he went to a rehabilitation centre didn't mean that he was going to be normal in a year. Or ten in his case.

The healer said that in the muggle world, stroke victims usually rehabilitated in the first one or two years and beyond that, there was little hope for any further rehabilitation. There were some miraculous cases, but they were about as rare as days where Fred and George decided that they smelled a little wiffy and needed a bath. In the magical world, it could take up to thirty years for a rehabilitation course to end. Percy thought that was helpful. _THIRTY YEARS!_ What was he going to do when he started being able to walk at the age of fifty? Would he suddenly have an epiphany and start running marathons at the time? Because he'd done so much of those when he was able to in his Hogwarts years!

"Mum said she made you pureed potato soup to eat with your dinner," Charlie told him, only for Percy to roll his eyes. He had started talking a few years into his rehabilitation and part of it included his swallow assessment being redone. They cleared him for solids, but Molly was still under the impression he could still choke on his food and die anytime. She had knocked out many chocolate frogs out of his hand at Christmas time and sent him horrific pureed soups and Wizarding Ensure bottles every day. "She made sure to puree it until it was softer and silkier than your sweet wife's fake extensions. She said that it should help with your low blood levels and tried to make it as hardy as possible for _your poor little baby tum_."

He shuddered. Percy felt like a crup that had just been dotted on after he'd gone over a bout of food poisoning.

Daphne glared at him coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. "She does remember that Percy is thirty, right?"

And yes, Charlie did say low blood levels. Low blood levels! He was one decibel away from a perfectly normal blood level and for a bloke that literally survived a few years on purely fluids, that was a feat in itself. It wasn't like he was losing large amounts of blood with every lunar cycle now, was he?

"Besides, forget about pureed bland potato soups, there's been an outbreak of this weird illness in the Ministry," Daphne was picking out the prawns from the dish and adding them to her tomato pasta. She also had three teeny slices of garlic bread on her plate. "Everyone that has contracted it has been quarantined in St Mungo's. People have been vomiting blood! It's putrid…oh, and I suppose it's concerning too. And vomiting blood is not exactly, you know, normal. But why did they have to do it in all my new Primpernelle's Pretty in Pink boots I will never know! Well, I suppose red is the new black…" she sighed deeply. "You know that Harry Potter still makes red look amazing?"

"I read about that," Molly immediately perked up, taking the smallest slice of garlic bread possible."The outbreak that is! In _The Daily Prophet!"_

Percy was avidly chewing his pasta bake, raising his eyebrow. Did you know what was more disturbing than vomiting blood? The asymmetrical sunflower wallpaper that Daphne bought last week. It wasn't natural, even more so than the artificially flavoured Honeyduke's flavoured wizarding Ensure that he was still forced to drink by the gallon.

"Who cares about some boring old things happening in the Ministry! Today was so embarrassing," Lucy whined. She'd already cleared her plate and was going back for a second huge portion. "When you stumbled out of the portable toilet in your underpants, dad, I really thought I was going to die." She groaned in disbelief, wearing a top that left a little less to the imagination than Percy would've liked. "You so can't do this to me when you meet my _new_ boyfriend. His name is Fernando. He's going to be an amazing Quidditch star and we're going to go to Europe together next year!"

Percy remembered the first time Lucy bought a bloke home, he'd been shocked and hadn't been able to sleep, thinking about the fact that his daughter was growing. Now, he knew that Lucy changed boyfriends like Charlie changed Percy's underpants. There was a time where Percy used to be scared that men would be using his daughter. That was before he found out that Lucy had been convincing her last couple of boyfriends to spend outrageous amount of money on her dress robes.

His other daughter, Molly, rolled her eyes as she looked at her dress robes catalogue. "Just like you were supposed to be going off to Antarctica with Henry Fontwell last week?" she cleared her throat. "Isn't that right, Daphne?"

"Well, this potato soup does look awfully low in calories…" Daphne was inspecting the bowl with renewed interest.

"Clark loves potato soup," Molly mentioned gleefully, and Percy's heart raced more than ever. Now, Molly was not the kind of girl that would throw away her boyfriend in the bin when she found a shinier, prettier one. No, she and Clark had been holding hands since first year. Percy wasn't exactly the most threatening person, sat here in his wheelchair and still not cleared to use a wand (yes, seriously). "I told him that he could talk to you, dad, if he ever wants a job in the Ministry! Well, I offered it to him, but he said that he wants a career with no qualifications."

"Yes, well, love, I haven't worked there for ten years… but it's not like you're not related to the Minister or anything," Percy replied, rolling his eyes. Molly just playfully pushed his shoulder, laughing at him. "You said that Clark wants a job with no qualifications? Well, I doubt there's much of a vacancy in the Auror department these days…"

Percy dropped the spoon in his hand when he heard a pop and turned to see Arthur standing there.

"Miss Greengrass, hello... I need you to run this report for me by tomorrow! _URGENTLY!"_ Arthur hadn't done so much as say a hello, as he slammed a bunch of papers down in front of Daphne, who just rolled her eyes because she was used to this happening every two or three days. "This horrific deadly stomach bug outbreak is stressing me out. Do you know that _The Daily Prophe_ t can't stop trying to point their fingers at me for-for not having safe working conditions for employees? And nobody knows where it came from! I've had St Mungo's infection control try to find the source. I have employees resigning left and right, and worst of all…the Ministry Munchies cart shut down because nobody is eating from there! They think that the Ministry Munchies' Mysterious Munchies has something to do with it and I haven't had a pumpkin nut muffin in three weeks now! I'm practically wasting away," he whined, sounding more like a child than the Minister.

Arthur accidentally bumped into Percy's wheelchair, who for all intent and purposes might as well be invisible.

"Everything is falling apart. Astoria is in the hospital. Whole departments are ill," Arthur shook his head, looking like he was the one that was going to start vomiting blood any minute. "My anniversary is in three weeks and I need a gift... and I don't know where Hermione is going to put her new cot in. It's horrific."

"Really? They think it's the Mysterious Munchies?" Daphne ignored the rest of her rant, shuddering because the only mysterious thing she'd buy was a shade of blue eyeshadow. "Well, they do have bagels as solid as Bludgers, Mr Minister. They're not exactly the most credible food source."

"Yes, well but…" Arthur was untying his tie already and fixed it, so it was looser. "Hey, loves," he turned to his granddaughters, who stared at him like he had suddenly grown three heads. "How was your day?"

"I'd never been so embarrassed in my life," Lucy groaned. "And my fish and chips were cold. It was so gross."

Molly just looked back Percy. "Why don't you come visit dad, granddad?" she asked in a sickly-sweet voice. Percy had decided that Lucy was wrong. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. Having his own daughter stick up for him like that!

"Um…I'm very busy," Arthur just glanced over Percy then laughed. "Besides, what would we talk about? The only reason I popped by was because Daphne works for me."

It wasn't like Percy didn't used to do _HER_ job! And it wasn't like they'd done a lot of talking then either!

Percy kept his jaw wired tight. How dare he ignore him? Ten years since the Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic debacle, and he still couldn't have a single normal interaction with his father. Ten year since Percy had had a job and he was absolutely sick of it. He'd wasted all of his twelve O.W.L's for Merlin's sake. He hadn't seen any actual work for years, stuck in this awful wheelchair…

And it wasn't like Arthur wasn't forcing him to stay in the office for long periods of time now, was he? He swore to Merlin. His family sometimes acted like he wanted to be sat in the Emergency Room after he collapsed because he slept about an hour a day if he was lucky. Percy didn't know why everyone was acting like _they_ were the one that lost something—he was the one sat there acting like a breathing statute. He had to spend most of his twenties learning how to use this charmed wheelchair and they were acting like they were the ones that were suffering now that Percy's only source of legitimate income was related to his disability status.

And pardon him, but he was physically disabled. He was not at all mentally challenged. He understood what was going on just as well as he did when he could verbalise what was on his mind. Percy's good hand shook with fury. He wrote a book. He was more than just a stroke victim!

"Yes, well, we're having dinner, Mr Minister," Percy said coolly. "So now that you're done, why don't you leave?"


	36. Percy Is Not A Herbologist Part 2

_to be honest, i had this chapter ready to post a week ago and then the whole thing got deleted. so... i was not happy._

 _this was a much longer chapter but i had to split it into two halves because it's gotten too long and i can't edit all of it. i've tried to edit this chapter a lot, so i hope the wording is okay now (it was more than just a little off first time i tried to edit it). please excuse any mistakes i might've made when editing! i hope you enjoy the chapter._

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Six**

Percy Is Not A Herbologist Part 2

* * *

It was six in the morning and Percy was excited and prepared for a day of… absolutely nothing.

Merlin, how could he be excited about being alive if all he did was breathe and read the same old circa 1980-1998 _The Practical Potioneer_ articles?

Yes, 1980-1998. You know, the time before his favourite journal turned into absolute rubbish. He'd honestly seen first years write more interesting articles. He still bought the new issues, of course. How else was he going to continue to complain about how substandard their new publications were? Besides, this was the only hobby he had besides trying to pretend he wasn't effected by the fact that his daughters tossed him around like Ron did Puffskeins. His two girls, that he bought up practically by himself (sorry, Daphne), didn't even _respect him!_

Why should they? Percy wondered. How could they respect a man that was challenged by his own spinal cord?

Sighing to himself, Percy laid on his bed, watching his thirty-year-old wife drool all over their bed. He placed a hand on Daphne's cheek, who just smacked his hand away. "Get your freezing hands off of me, Percival!" Daphne said tenderly.

This was his wife's true form at six in the morning. Her blonde hair, now getting darker by the day, looked more like it belonged to Medusa than a _Witch Weekly_ model. She hadn't washed it in three days and now, it was oilier than a slice of his mum's tomato-zucchini vegetarian lasagna. Her pink alarm clock had suffered from a _Confringo_ three days ago.

"You're going to be late," Percy warned her, turning his head to face her. His nose was pressed against her temple, and she pushed him off because he had the nose of a snowman that had been chilled and set in the freezer for the last decade.

But then she inched in a little closer to him, grabbing his arm and then burying her head into the crook of his elbow.

"Why does it matter so much that I'm going to be late to work! Have you forgotten I work for a man that has the mentality of a seventh year Gryffindor?" Daphne asked him coldly. Percy smiled weakly, but Daphne reached up to kiss him. He bet you'd feel warmer eating a bucket of Ice Mice after swimming in the Great Lake. "Godric, I can't stand your father as it is! Do you see the way he looks at you? It's like you're a broken broomstick that he doesn't know what to bloody do with! The gall of what he said last night! I can't believe he looked appalled when Molly asked him why he doesn't visit. What would we talk about? Merlin, that really got to me. It's almost like you ceased having brain cells after that last stroke…"

Percy knew exactly how his father looked at him. Like he didn't know why he bothered existing. How encouraging. He turned his head away to the table where Arthur's files were at. There were red-coloured papers strewn everywhere. It was just so tempting and eye-catching, like Charlie admiring a shiny new Firebolt that he just _had_ to buy.

He reached over to grab the files as noiselessly as possible (this was hard when Daphne had built-in Extendable Ears for... well, ears!). Yes, it might be extremely confidential but in Percy's defence, it was just sat there for-for public consumption! And how could he not? When it was literally just a few fingertips away from him? When he opened the files, he felt his heart race. He knew that he had no control of his privates anymore, but he was sure that he'd just had an orgasm for the first time in his life...

"What are you doing with _THAT?"_ Daphne had turned around, only to find Percy holding Arthur's files and weeding through them. He felt like he might have a heart attack. He was appalled at the state the Ministry had gotten to. He would've never left it like this. It was a miracle it hadn't collapsed on itself as it was. Knowing Arthur, there was no standard for anything! And what was this thing about a _muggle appreciation protocol?_ "For Merlin's sake, Percival, can you just take a break? Can you _try_ not to fix everything that you see?"

Percy flinched, but turned his head away. "I…I was just curious," he felt disheartened. "I mean I... I do worry about this outbreak you've been having at the Ministry. I mean it is concerning that everyone is… v-vomiting buckets of blood. Did you know that Lucy is start an internship in the Ministry this month? She is going to let me look over her application—well, I practically told her that I had to do, or I'll cease giving her money to buy overpriced robes but…the sentiment is there! She respects me enough to look over her application! Once she has it done. In a day or three or…maybe a week. Well, I do have this suspicion that she's already submitted it and hadn't bothered to show me, but the spirit is still there!"

Every day he sounded more pathetic than the next.

"Well, don't be so 'curious'! This isn't Hogwarts. You can't just walk into random corridors without authorisation," Daphne grabbed the files from him and then shoved it angrily on her dresser, far away from his reach. How insulting. Percy felt like he was a child rooting through his mum's important papers. "Yes, love, Lucy is starting her internship today. You already know that, don't you? I had your father place her with me for the month…"

Percy nodded his head but, in all honesty, he didn't. "Of course, I do! What do you take me for? A fumbling fool that doesn't know where his own daughters are at?"

He sighed to himself. What he wouldn't give to show Lucy around the Ministry right now. He would love to show her off in every department he could, but he supposed that he'd be more likely to fly a Chinese Fireball all the way from Romania to China overnight than have a chance of that happening.

Truth be told, he mostly had no idea what Molly and Lucy did all day. Their lives were so different from his. He couldn't control them walking in and out of the flat. It wasn't like he could follow them around with his heaving wheelchair. And it wasn't like he could bar them from leaving the house with his extendable limbs now, could he?

Ever since he'd become physically disabled, his whole family had practically been treating him like he was mentally disabled as well.

If they could cheer him for daring to breath all by himself every morning, they would (and in case of his mum, she did!). He understood that he had nearly died, but that was a decade ago! During the time that everyone could've died as well. They had been a _WAR_. Well, to be fair, he did suppose that the second stroke and nearly being trachoestomised might have done it…

But they acted like his twelve O.W.L knowledge had suddenly disintegrated the second that he lost the ability to walk!

Percy was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear Charlie rustling in his sheets on the floor.

"What do you mean? About dad treating Percy like rubbish?" was Charlie's belated response. He sat up from the mattress on the ground. Yes, Charlie slept in the same room as Daphne and Percy. If Lucy and Molly shared a room, then the third wizarding world might begin over a missing vial of appallingly overpriced occamy egg yolk shampoo. Either way, it wasn't like they were going to be up to anything even if Charlie hadn't been around. After that second stroke, Percy didn't have the ability to… _err_ , pleasure himself. Speaking of which, he hoped that the vibrating wand he found tucked under the couch belonged to Daphne. "He-he…I know that their relationship is a little rocky, but I'm sure that dad doesn't mean to be an arse to Percy, I mean…"

Rocky? Laughable. Yes, it was like someone took one of Hagrid's rock cakes and hurled it at the glass house that was Arthur's deteriorating respect for him. He'd seen gingerbread houses that had a better foundation than their relationship!

"He knocked him over his wheelchair last Christmas and didn't even bother to apologise! He might as well be wearing an invisible cloak!" Daphne reminded Charlie with a look of disgust on her face. She sat up now, her pink dressing gown slipped down to reveal her extremely sensual lavender-coloured Puffskein bra. It looked like it belonged to a third year that was starting to develop breasts. It could barely contain her. "When are you going to stop making excuses for him?"

Charlie sat up, his duvet slipped off his muscled chest. "I…" he looked like he'd been hit by a Bludger. Or maybe smacked in the face with one of Daphne's knockers (hey, Percy didn't need glasses to be able to appreciate how large they were). "Well, just last week, Dad said that he was going to talk to Percy about—well, no, that wasn't dad…he… I mean last time that Perce and dad went out, they ended up—arguing about…he sent an owl once that-that… was for Daphne but there was that one owl that...he accidentally sent to Percy. But-"

He looked genuinely disheartened. "Oh." He paused. "I… I didn't realise that it was so bad."

"You didn't realise that your father treats Percy like he might as well not exist?" Daphne shot him a pointed, calculated look. She was weeding through her closet, probably looking for something horrific to wear. "Seriously, Charlie?"

"No, I didn't! Do you think I'd let him if I did?" Charlie now looked like he was fuming. "Godric, what is his problem?"

Percy mourned the loss of her body heat against his. But at least now he could actually cover himself (how did a five-foot-seven woman require six feet of blanket?) and not die from the hypothermia. Honestly, Percy didn't even want to know how it had gotten so cold last night when they were smack in the middle of June as it was! His bum was about as frozen as one of Lucy's old Pixie Puff ice lollies. But at least he didn't have to worry about suffering from a thyroid storm, right? What a pity he had to lose his toes to frostbite. Why was it so cold in the middle of summer anyway?

"It's not just him," Percy tried to gather as much blanket as possible. _Even you do it._

Now, if only he could turn to the side because lying like this on his back probably was not helping his pressure sore (wonderful. A pressure sore before thirty-five!).

He tried to go back to sleep because he could feel tears forming in his eyes. It was so hard to know that you were physically not capable of doing anything without assistance. It was hard to know that his daughters would rather have an intelligent conversation with a first year than have one with him. It was almost like he hadn't spent his whole life teaching them. It was almost like he hadn't been preparing them for their O.W.L's when they were only first years. He could remember feeling like he'd been slapped in the face when he realised that Arthur knew that his daughter, Molly, was seeing Clark a whole _MONTH_ before he did!

After ten minutes of trying to go back to sleep (and failing miserably), he heard Charlie say, "What's wrong with him?"

Oh yes, Daphne and Charlie liked to talk when they thought Percy was asleep.

"He's just really depressed," he heard Daphne reply back. "He spends all day in this flat. He's read every book there is under the sun. There's only so many conversations that he could have with you without going mental. Lucy and Molly come to me for advice instead of him…even if it's just about school subjects! You'd think _I_ know all there is to know about how Advanced Arithmancy is like? I didn't even know Arithmancy had an advanced course! You'd think that the standard Arithmancy class wasn't hard enough? Oh, and his mum sends him about three hundred owls asking him if he drank his nutritional shakes. His whole life was about his job, and I…I know that this is strange to say but I'm sure he was happier even being overworked and barely sleeping than _this_. Honestly, I know you haven't seen him then but he really did have more spark to him when he was literally not sleeping for more than a few hours a day."

She paused for a few moments. "He's...he's just not used to this, Charlie. Even after all these years," she sounded sad. "I'm sure that even five-year-old Percy was used to being productive."

"Oh, you have no idea!" Charlie laughed vacantly. "He learned how to use cleaning charms on his training wand by four!"

"What a protégé," Daphne replied flatly. "Shame it all has to go to waste on the most obsessive human being in the world."

When Daphne left to go to work, it always left him feeling empty. Even though he hadn't done it in years, he missed just being sat there in his kitchen table, drinking his coffee, reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and then apparating to work. She was right. Even though it had been a decade, Percy could remember going into the Ministry just like it was yesterday. Sometimes, he felt like he would give anything just to have that feeling back sometimes.

Unfortunately, he now had less respect that Dolores Umbridge after the second wizarding war. So, he doubted that that would be happening any time soon.

He gave up trying to go back to sleep at six-thirty (shocker). By seven-thirty, he'd already been washed and changed into his regular clothes. He was sat at the table, drinking a disgusting pot of too-watered down coffee with Charlie. He was slowly nibbling on the corner pieces of a slice of toast. It was dry but he didn't want to ask Charlie to butter it for him.

When Lucy walked in the kitchen., Percy started choking.

"Percy? Percy!" Charlie was three seconds away from performing the Heimlich manouvere before Percy managed to spit out the piece that dislodged itself into his throat.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked, concerned. Meanwhile, Percy stayed quiet, his eyes locked on his _FIFTEEN_ -year-old daughter.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Dad, come on," she smoothed over her…Merlin knew what it was. It was thin, lacey and shorter than the Fred and George's Potions essays. Percy wondered if she borrowed it from a Knockturn Alley two-knut prostitute. "You're _SO_ old-fashioned! Everyone wears these now! Haven't you seen them walking around everywhere in Diagon Alley? Because if you haven't, you seriously need an even bigger pair of glasses!"

Bigger glasses? Percy balked. He didn't want to see her being nude in high definition!

Percy shook his head. "Darling…I think I'd notice if fifth years start walking around in Madam Malkin's Tartiest."

"I'm not a _TART_ because I happen to show off a little more than our grandmother, dad! Seriously, you're so ancient. These, by the way, are called bralettes," Lucy said. Why was it white and see-through? Percy refused to meet his daughter's eyes because he was too ashamed to see that much of her. His heart was thudding so quickly into his chest that he felt like he was about to sit a Charms exam that he didn't study for. She was wearing this monstrosity with the tiniest pair of shorts that he'd ever seen. He swore that if he looked long enough, he could practically see her ovaries. That was not something that any father (or even a concerned, considerate stranger in the Knight Bus) wanted to experience. "They're part of my style! Just like you wear those awful frumpy trousers that make you look like you're McGonagall's age, I wear cute things because, you know, I like them. I like to look cute instead of looking like good ole Madam Pince."

Madam Pince was still alive? And so was McGonagall? Well, you truly do learn something new every day.

"Love, when you say cute, I'm not exactly envisioning clothes straight out of Witch Weekly's _Dark and Dirty_ column here now," Percy said. Cute was the pastel pink rose-patterned dresses he used to buy her a decade back. Not this tattered kitchen cloth! "Where do you get your fashion advice from, Lucille? Because _I_ don't even allow those kinds of magazines in this flat."

"That's-that's not fair!" Lucy looked like she was about to cry. "Uncle Charlie, tell dad that he's being awful and that—"

"Gross! _WHERE_ are your clothes?" Molly walked into the room. If Lucy was underdressed, Molly was overdressed for the weather. Percy felt his body rise ten degrees just looking at her. They were smack in the middle of a horrific heat wave (well, except for last night where he froze to death and suffered from frostbite at three am. May his toes rest in peace). It was like she was challenging Fortescue's No-Melt ice-cream to liquefy. After all, who in their right mind would wear a hideous, gigantic dark jumper on top of a long-sleeved white shirt when it was thirty degrees outside? "Are they back at Fernando's house?"

"Molly," Charlie spoke up before Percy could. "That's-that's not like you!"

Unfortunately, it was most definitely like her.

"Do you even know me, Uncle Charlie?" Molly scoffed. She smirked as she ran her hand through her mass of congealed ginger curls. "I bet that the Department of Mysteries spent all their time trying to find out what's wrong with Lucy's va—"

 _"Ugh!_ You're the worst sister ever!" Lucy complained. "I don't care what you think about Fernando and me, _Mowwywobbles,_ because even though we don't know each other for that long, at least my boyfriend doesn't stare at my twin sister's arse in front of her face!" she smirked at her.

Molly look seriously hurt by this for a second, but that hurt changed to anger in only seconds.

"At least I can keep a boyfriend for longer than three days!" Molly rolled her eyes back at her. She picked up a piece of toast from the table, not bothering to butter it. Lucy, meanwhile, had already managed to scoff a slice of buttered toast with apricot jam in less than three seconds and was on her second slice. "But you better watch it, Luce. Well…if you keep eating like that, your next date will be at the new gym that's just opened up in Hogsmeade. But don't worry, because I'm sure they have a discount for slags!"

 _"MOLLY!"_ Percy and Charlie called out in surprise. Percy knew that Molly was vocal but this was above and beyond.

Lucy stopped eating her slice of toast and threw it at her. Molly dodged it.

"I...I hate you, stupid frigid bitch!" she looked close to tears. "I hope you _DIE!"_

"Lucille, that-that, too, is uncalled for!" Percy yelled straight after her. "Why can't you two just sit down and have a normal convers—"

Before Percy could tell both of them off, Lucy had walked out of the flat and slammed the door shut. Her face was covered in jam and she was still not dressed appropriately for a nude beach, much less an internship in the Ministry!

"Why can't we just sit down and have a normal conversation?" Molly finished off. "Well, why can't _you_ just sit down and have a normal conversation with everyone else, dad? It's very much the pot calling the cauldron black, isn't it?"

Pushing her thick-framed glasses to her face, Molly grabbed her plain piece of toast and then stormed off to her room.

"Perce," Charlie's voice was soft. "I'm sorry about the fact that both of your daughters hate you. I…well, I'm sure they don't really hate you but…" he paused.

Charlie placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. The plate of toast was now out of his reach. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm elated, Charlie!" Percy replied back hotly. It was almost like they were all living separate lives in this flat. He had no idea what his daughters did anymore, and they didn't even tell him. Percy's heart broke when he thought of how long it had been since he'd spent time with them, but every time he inched near them, they told him off. "One of my daughters just wished death on the other and is parading around Merlin only knows where in see-through lingerie! And...and I can't believe that Molly just told me off for not having normal conversations with the rest of my family when-when I...I just…"

Molly treating him like a child was even more insulting than Lucy treating like he was a walking Gringott's account (maybe walking wasn't the best term to use.) Percy had said kinder things when he'd disowned his family. How did they talk to him like that on a day-to-day basis? How was it even fair?

Percy felt hot tears burn into his eyes, as he placed his hands onto his lap. He wiped his tears away with his sleeve.

He picked up a piece of toast and angrily bit into it. He smacked Charlie's hand away when he tried to take it away from him.

"I-I can eat toast just fine! How do you ever expect me to get better if you won't allow me to-to consume leavened products?" Percy yelled, looking more like a lunatic by the second. Charlie swore that he heard Percy say _butter_ instead of better. "I have the ability to eat yeast-ridden products—I mean, I've been living with Daphne Greengrass for years and I'm still alive! No matter what you think of me, I am not bread challenged! I will… I will rise to the occasion!"

Percy stuffed a piece of bread down his throat, and then looked disgusted. It wasn't the kind that he liked.

"Perce, putting aside your—um…you know, your new-found obsession for carbs," Charlie looked at him with a soft expression. "I'm really worried about you…I think you're probably a little…um…depressed," he said slowly and quickly, as if he was afraid that saying it out loud might make Percy want to kill himself. "How about we go for a stroll? In the Ministry? You can-you can see what other people are doing and tell me all about how you would've done it better!"

Percy would hate to admit it, but that did sound sort of good. "I suppose I can criticise others to validate myself. But if anyone asks, it was your idea first," his mood was lifting. Oh! Lucy would be in the Ministry too, wouldn't she? He could tell her all about how Daphne didn't know how to write a report if she drank all the sugar-free lattes in the world…

Charlie looked back at him, twisting his lip into a smile. "You should take that jacket off, Perce. It's a little toasty outside!"


End file.
